Better Left to Chance
by Commander
Summary: Maybe, if you knew in advance what life holds for you, it would make everything easier. And then again, maybe not.
1. Prologue

(AN:

With my need to talk about my writing, you'd think I'd have a lot to say about this particular story… but I really have nothing but apologies, truthfully. I've seen _Horton Hears a Who _in theaters three times and loved it more and more each time I saw it… and I especially fell in love with Ned McDodd. Being a writer, I felt the strange need to fill in gaps from the movie, and that is essentially what this story is. There is no one strong plot; it's more a series of events in the life of the mayor of Who-ville. (Although his five oldest kids had ideas of their own and almost ran off with the story by themselves, I will admit!) Not that it's necessarily a bad thing—liken it to a Forrest Gump-type story if you will, which happens to be one of my other favorite movies—but I thought I'd let you know.

I explain a lot of the ins and outs of life as a Who in this story, but one thing I never explain fully is the last name situation. I've decided that when Whos marry, they don't take their spouse's last name. And as far as the children go, all the boys take their father's last name, and all the girls take their mother's. Hence, of all of Ned's children, only Jojo has the last name of McDodd. All the rest are O'Malley's. Hey, who says I have to be tied to human naming conventions?

This story is made up of a short prologue and fourteen chapters. I'm, believe it or not, about 5,000 some miles away from home as I type this, so I can't speak with any certainty of how often I'll get updates up, but I'll aim for somewhat weekly updates. I can't guarantee any regularity with them until I get back to the United States, however, which will be around July 20.

_Horton Hears a Who _belongs to Fox and Dr. Seuss Enterprises. I know I say this way too often, but please don't sue me… I'm just a hopeless fan (read: a hopeless Ned fangirl).

Enjoy!)

…………

_Prologue_

Kind of ironic that after everything wonderful that had just happened, he still had to sneak out of his house at night.

Jojo McDodd pushed open the door to the observatory, abandoned for years until he had turned it into his workshop, and sighed a bit, feeling strangely unhappy. Strangely, because up until a few weeks ago, this was one of the only places where he _could _feel happy. Here he could create everything his mind imagined in solitude, in peace. Here he could create what would be the mother of all music machines! And it had been. Jojo's project, along with his previously undiscovered loud voice, had saved all of Who-ville.

Which left Jojo with the question—_What do I work on now?_

He sighed again, looking at the fruits of his labors. Complete. He wouldn't change a thing. That didn't have to mean that the music in him was complete—completely finished—as well! There was always some new rhythm waiting to be tapped out, some new device waiting to be invented, some new song waiting to be played. There _had _to be.

This was the only place he could think these thoughts with any amount of silence… having ninety-six siblings left little chance for one to reflect on—or even hear—one's own thoughts. It was why Jojo hadn't told anyone about his project up until the crisis, not even his birth siblings, as much as he knew they would be impressed and keep his secret. This was his own place, and as close as he was to Zaneeta, Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia, he still had his secrets even from them. Not that he was ever afraid of _their _disapproval. Zaneeta especially was always quick to praise Jojo's talents in a protective, sisterly-way. Jojo smiled to himself. Sometimes it felt as if Zaneeta was his _older _sister, when in fact he was a good three seconds older than she.

As for the rest of his sisters, however, Jojo had feared that they would mess with his work, and perhaps even worse, tell their parents. His mom would have chastised him for leaving the house at night; his dad probably wouldn't have understood. What's worse, Jojo had felt, his dad would be _disappointed _to learn where his son's interests truly lied.

At least, Jojo had believed such until his father had followed him and witnessed his labors in action. "Jojo, you _built _this?" he had asked incredulously, and for a moment Jojo's emotions had started to tumble, with the dread of his father finally discovering his terrible secret.

But when a shocked smile had accompanied those words, Jojo had smiled too.

And then Jojo had saved the day, became a hero. He used to go mostly unnoticed at school, but now _everyone _wanted to talk to him. No one gave him any space to breathe anymore.

Being alone in the observatory was comforting in that respect, at least. No one was there asking him questions, wanting to talk to him, wanting him to help them. That he disliked most of all, because it made him feel uncomfortable. He knew himself well, and knew that he was _not _good working with people. He preferred to do his own thing, because there the only person he could let down was himself, and not an entire family. Or an entire community.

He picked up a small, bent wire on the floor and tossed it against the wall. It made a small ping, then a thud when it hit the floor.

Jojo sighed yet again.

"Nothing."

Maybe he couldn't really be happy by just burying himself in his own work, but by actually tackling the problem at hand?

Oh jeez, that sounded like something Zaneeta would say. _But Zaneeta's usually right about these sorts of things, _Jojo reminded himself.

Well, that's all well and good, but what was he supposed to do? He had a responsibility to become mayor someday, and skirting responsibility made him feel lousy inside. But he also knew—and he was not being humble here—that he'd make a really lousy mayor.

He sat down on the floor, staring blankly at his creations. No, there was no music in his heart tonight. Only worry.


	2. I

_Thirteen years ago_

"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I thought about coming home on my wedding day," Ned McDodd said apologetically, shuffling his feet in embarrassment.

But Sally O'Malley, his new wife—his _wife, _oh _pinch me I must be dreaming—_showed no disapproval as she looked about Ned's moderately sized apartment. "It'll do for now," she said with a smile.

"If only the house had been finished by now," Ned sighed.

Sally said nothing to that, only giving him a kiss on the cheek that made him completely forget about that unfinished house.

She had been so patient and understanding throughout all of this—from their first date, which had gotten their relationship off to a dubious start when Ned had accidentally set their table on fire—all the way up to their wedding, for which Ned was late to. It wasn't that he had forgotten that it was his wedding day—oh no, that was definitely at the forefront of his mind! He was just so flustered that he had completely forgotten _where _the wedding was taking place. He had torn through town, running into every building and shouting things like _"Is there a wedding going on here?!"_ and _"Am I supposed to be getting married here?!"_ until he finally found the right church. Sally had given a good natured, sarcastic sigh when he had flown into the chapel, a good twenty minutes late. The minister's sigh hadn't been so good-natured, perhaps explaining why he ran through the vows so quickly.

And now they were here—here at Ned's really pathetic-looking little apartment (at least to his eyes)—and he felt a bit ashamed of the little three-room abode that was supposed to house a newlywed couple, temporarily at least. Ned's father, the mayor, had promised them a brand-new house for their wedding present, and it should have been finished on time… at least according to the contractors. But it wasn't. "We've got the walls up!" they had said cheerfully when Ned had viewed their progress the other day. Walls do not a house make. Walls and a roof and actual rooms with stuff in them a house make.

"It's alright, dear, really," Sally was saying, correctly assuming that Ned was still irritated at the unfinished state of what should be by now their home. "This apartment will suit the needs of a newlywed couple well. The house should be finished soon, and then we'll be ready to start raising our family."

"That's right!" said Ned, brightening, eagerly clasping Sally's hands in his own. "I told my dad to make a house for a big family—you do want a big family, don't you?"

"Of course I do! I love children." Sally grinned. "Although not as much as you, I think. How big are we talking about?"

"Oh…" Ned felt himself grow a little nervous—of all the things engaged couples should talk about, plans for future children and the _number _of intended future children was high on the list, especially regarding the numbers Ned was hoping for. And yet they hadn't even mentioned it, both knowing the other well enough that yes, they were going to have children, and yes, they were going to have a lot of them. But their definitions of "a lot" might differ…

"I was thinking, you know, maybe… fifteen or twenty?" Ned said, then wincing and preparing for an outburst.

An outburst from Sally, however, was rarely an explosion—usually just a stinging look—and even that wasn't her reaction this time. She just laughed. "That's easy for _you _to say—you're not the one who gets pregnant in this equation!"

"I know it's asking a lot from you," Ned said quickly, "but I just like big families, and I like taking care of children, and I _know _I'll like it even more when they're my own children!" He didn't want his children to live in solitude, he knew that for sure. Not like his own childhood had been—he only had one sibling, Ted, and despite being birth siblings, the two had never been particularly close.

"You don't need to explain yourself," said Sally, still smiling. "You know I come from a big family, so I'm completely used to handling them. Besides, it won't be hard to get your wish. Fours run in my family."

"Really? I didn't know that! But _you're _a three, not a four—"

"My mother is a four, though, and so was my grandmother."

Ned laughed, more from happiness and relief than anything else. That certainly _would _make it easier, with favorable genetics on Sally's side. As everyone knows, Whos are usually born in groups of two or three. Sometimes one. And, very rarely, four. Fours tended to run in families, especially on the mother's side.

Sally's smile faded. "You did tell your dad that you were planning on a big family, right? The house will be big enough?"

"Oh, sure," said Ned with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I specifically told him to make a house suitable for a big family. Eight times, in fact. Believe me, he got the message."

…………

"_Dad! _How did you _not _get my message?"

Ed McDodd, the mayor of Who-ville—perhaps a bit pompous and overbearing, but still good-hearted—harrumphed at his older son's disapproval of the building plans. "I did get your message, son, and this house is perfectly suitable for a family man! You've got a rec room _and _a sitting room, a state-of-the-art kitchen-dining room complex, three bedrooms—"

"But Dad, three won't be enough! We want a lot of kids—fifteen or twenty!"

Ed was unfazed. "They're big bedrooms. Put all the boys in one, and all the girls in another!"

Ned, in irritation, pointed to the blueprints of the unfinished house. "And _one _bathroom?"

Ed was still unaffected. "They'll learn to share. You'll have fifteen or twenty of the most compassionate, helpful, caring kids around!"

Knowing that he wasn't going to convince his dad, Ned groaned in defeat. "I _knew _I should have seen the plans before they got approved…"

"Aw, you party-pooper! That would have ruined the surprise!"

Ned tried to laugh, but it came out probably a bit too forced sounding. _Yeah, Dad, trust you to not understand family needs, _he thought bitterly—but, of course, he didn't dare say anything aloud. And he realized, of course, that it wasn't completely his father's fault. Being mayor was a demanding job, and even when Ed's mother was still mayor, he had had to attend every city function anyway, needing to learn the ropes for the day his mother retired and he took over. It had meant long days alone at home for Ned and Ted. Their own mother had just left the house one night—and never came back.

"I thought nothing in Who-ville ever went wrong!" Ned had cried to his father when his mother had left, reacting with the grace of the clumsy, already socially-awkward five-year-old that he was—which is to say, no grace at all.

"Son," Ed had sighed, "if it was true that nothing in Who-ville ever went wrong, we wouldn't have the word 'wrong' in our vocabularies."

At the time, Ned hadn't understood… but now he did. Too well, in fact.

Ned was determined to create a better family life for his future children than the childhood he had gone through. It wasn't that he had had a _terrible _childhood, but it had still felt empty… and he was going to do all in his power to give his children a substantially _fuller _one. He now had a wife who he was reasonably certain wouldn't walk out on the family; his father wasn't planning on retiring for awhile, so Ned could focus on raising his family before the duties of being the mayor were his; and, of course, he loved children—definitely more than his father did. Ed didn't dislike children, but they always seemed to make him ill at ease.

But how was he supposed to raise a happy family in such an inadequate house?

"Dad," Ned said, trying to sound as polite and tactful as possible, "as much as I appreciate all the work you've done on your wedding present to Sally and me… you're going to need to tell the contractors to alter the plans and make the house bigger."

Ed gave Ned a stern look. "Listen, son, I've been involved with the planning of this house and funding every penny of it out of the goodness of my heart. You should learn to not look a gift horse in the mouth and accept gifts freely given to you—and stop being so picky!"

"I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth, I'm looking a gift house in the blueprints, and this isn't just some knick-knack I'm going to be putting on a shelf! It's where I'm going to be living for probably the rest of my life and raising a _family! _And this house, while very nice, doesn't suit my needs!"

Ed's lip quivered. "Well…" he said, in a quavering voice, "if that's the way you feel… I guess I'll alter my gift to you… I should have known," he murmured, wiping away tears from his eyes, "I should have known that your standards are just so high… but I tried! I tried! But I've failed you!"

It was Ned's turn to look stern, although inside he was berating himself, _Don't fall for this, don't fall for this… _He knew perfectly well that his father had a knack to act like a teenage girl and cry to get his way—and his father knew this well, too. He was clearly just hamming it up at the moment, it was just an act…

"I try to make up for the lack of attention I gave you as a child with this beautiful house, but I guess nothing can!"

Hook, line, and sinker.

"Fiiiiiiiine," groaned Ned. "I'll be happy to accept _any _sort of house from you, Dad."

Ed immediately grinned, all signs of an emotional meltdown vanished. "I knew you'd see it my way!"

"Of course you did," sighed Ned. This is not a good quality of a future mayor, he reflected to himself—the inability to say no.

"Now why don't you run along now," said Ed cheerfully. "You've got a wife now who needs looking after!"

"She's my wife, not my pet," sighed Ned, although he was glad for the opportunity to make a quick exit. Sally might not need looking after, but he'd much rather spend time with her than his father. At least _she _wasn't a drama queen.

…………

Well, maybe she _did _need looking after.

"You don't look well," he said with concern.

Sally snorted and smiled sarcastically. "Oh really? What was your first clue?"

Leave it to Sally to make a joke out of everything, even feeling sick. It did nothing to alleviate her husband's worry—if anything, her rather strange smile was making him even more nervous.

"Oh, I don't know, the fact that your face is pale, the fact that you're sprawled out on the couch and eating saltine crackers and—mustard? Why are you spreading mustard on your crackers?"

"I threw up this morning," said Sally matter-of-factly. "It was purple."

Ned's limbs stiffened. Every Who in Who-ville, even four-year-olds, knew what purple vomit meant. That color vomit that only females had, and only when she was in a certain, um, condition.

"Purple? Are you sure?"

"Relatively so. And look—" She pointed to the mustard. "Odd cravings already."

"But—" Ned stammered. "But we've only been married _three days!"_

"It only takes one time, you know," said Sally, still smiling warmly.

The smile was infectious—Ned temporarily forgot about the lack of decent housing and the sudden timing of the ordeal that he found himself in, and let out a whoop of joy, probably heard by half the apartment complex. "I don't _believe _it!" he cried, rushing over to Sally and putting his hands on her belly. "Hello there!" he said into it, much to Sally's amusement. "This is… this is your dad!" He looked up at Sally. "Do you think they can hear me?"

"It's hard to say," shrugged Sally. "But it certainly can't hurt, can it?"

"I can't wait to meet you!" Ned continued, his voice quavering a little from a rush of emotion. He was going to be a _father! _Perhaps a bit sooner than he had originally planned, but in two short weeks his house would be the cradle of new, precious life!

Wait.

_What _house?

"Oh no!" he cried in realization. "Sally, the house isn't anywhere near finished yet!"

"They can build those things up pretty fast," said Sally. "You'd be surprised."

"Yeah, I would, considering how long it's taken them just to get the framework up," muttered Ned. He stood up and ran back towards the door. "I'm going to ask them how long it'll take them to finish."

"Alright! I love you!"

"Love you too!" And in a flash, he was gone again.

Sally leaned back into the couch, sighing in contentment and placing her hands on her belly. In two weeks she would be a mother… but unlike Ned, she was sure these would be the _longest _two weeks of her life. "You guys are really going to enjoy wrecking havoc on my body, aren't you?" she said playfully.

With a little effort, she pushed herself out of the couch, nearly knocking the mustard jar over. Well, she'd just told her husband the news—now it was time to call her mother and tell her that in two weeks, she was going to be upgraded to a _grandma._

…………

Ed hadn't yet left the site of the future house—he was looking over the blueprints, trying to discern what had Ned in such a tizzy. Although he hadn't said anything to his oldest son, he was a little skeptical of his future huge-family plans. In fact, he was fairly confident that when his first children were born, Ned wouldn't want any more. Playing with children was one thing, but Ned didn't seem to realize that he'd have to put up with snotty noses, whining, wet beds, and potty training as well—and Ned had never dealt with stress very well.

"He can get so particular about little, insignificant things," Ed muttered. "At least Ted doesn't give me any trouble…" Then again, Ted rarely gave anyone trouble. He was an insurance agent and kept mostly to himself.

"_Hey! Building… construction… people… who are building my house!"_

Ed rolled his eyes. Yes, always something with that boy.

"What is it _now, _Ned?" he asked.

Ned ignored his father, instead grabbing the head construction worker and shaking him by the shoulders. "You've got to get this house finished as soon as possible!"

"Hey, don't worry!" said the head construction worker, looking more than a little irritated by being shaken in such a manner. "We'll definitely be finished with your house in a month or two—"

"You need to finish it _faster!" _Ned screeched. "In two weeks!"

"Ned, for the love of Pete, what are you going on about?" Ed demanded.

Ned tugged at his face in distress, the full gravity of the situation finally beginning to settle in his stomach. "Sally's pregnant!"

Ed burst out laughing. "Whoa, boy, you sure wasted no time!"

"Well jeez," snapped Ned, "it's not like we meant for this to happen! –Well, I mean, we definitely want children, and I'm happy about this, really!—but the _timing, _the _timing! _Fours run in Sally's family! In two weeks I'm going to have probably _four _children and no place to put them!"

"We'll work as fast as we can," said the head construction worker curtly, rubbing his shoulders with a pained expression.

"Well, son," said Ed, patting Ned on the back, "let me be the first to offer you my congratulations! Looks like you're off to a good start to that huge family of yours! Oh—and the oldest of the bunch will be next in line to be mayor, after you, remember!"

"Oh yeah… you're right!" In the excitement of the pregnancy announcement, Ned had nearly forgotten about his future job—and thus, the job of his not-yet-born oldest child. His responsibility to that child was almost bigger than his responsibility to all the children that followed, for it was the oldest who would someday have the weight of command of city on his or her shoulders… and Ned would have to teach him or her everything he knew…

"Oh, Dad, I don't know if I can handle this," he suddenly whimpered, feeling a little bit dizzy.

Ed grabbed him before he fell. "You'll be fine, Ned, don't worry about it. You've always been good with kids. And you've got your wife to help you—that is, assuming she won't walk out on you like Joanna did on me…"

Ned forced a laugh, trying to smile about the situation the way Sally would have if she was there. "Still bitter about that, are we?"

Ed glared at Ned. "It's no laughing matter," he said sternly.

Ned gulped. Ed had been stern, but more than that, Ned had seen in his expression an emotion that most children never want to see in their parent… and that most citizens never want to see in their mayor. Heartbreak and despair.

And just the mere thought of Sally ever leaving him led Ned to understand exactly why his father felt that way.

"Sorry, Dad," said Ned quickly.

Just as quickly, Ed straightened his posture and put on a brave, more upbeat face. "It's alright—besides," he said, in a low voice, "it's not good to ever show sadness or fear in front of citizens. People want their mayor to be strong, not a quivering bundle of emotions ready to burst at any minute. Remember that."

"I will," said Ned, although gulping a bit—he knew as well as anyone else that he was the type of Who to wear his emotions on his sleeve.

"But don't look so stiff, either!" cried Ed, smiling exuberantly. "I didn't say you shouldn't show happiness, and babies are definitely something to be happy about—until the little snot-balls are actually born, at least! Come on, I'll buy you a drink."


	3. II

The two weeks zipped by at lightning speed for Ned. He sat through city council meetings not paying attention to a word anyone was saying, but instead writing down baby name ideas. He bought basinets and baby toys and bottles galore, so that their tiny little apartment was about to burst with expectation—or baby purchases. And he spent most of his time at home rubbing and talking to Sally's belly—which, since Whos are only pregnant for two weeks, had gotten very large, very fast.

As for Sally, the two weeks drug on like a funeral dirge. She had grown enormous—there was no doubt she was carrying four babies, she looked like a _blimp_—and could hardly move by herself. She still had that weird craving for mustard—along with grape-flavored soda and black licorice. She would alternate between dancing for joy and crashing into tears of anger and depression in a matter of minutes. She had to go to the bathroom constantly.

Ah, the joys of being pregnant.

"You should be coming out any day now!" Ned said, still talking to Sally's belly. If she didn't find it so darned adorable, she would have been annoyed… but then again, she found almost anything her husband did to be pretty darned adorable.

He looked up at her. "You really oughta quit hoarding them and just let them out."

Sally snorted. "Yes, Ned. I'm keeping the babies inside of me for as long as I can for my own selfish pleasure. You know how much I love being pregnant."

"Well, you've certainly made the bathroom your second home," said Ned teasingly. Sally gave him a playful kick.

"Hopefully I'll have them today," she sighed. "I'm sick of waiting. Remember that my mom wants to know as soon as I go into labor, and since I'll probably be in no condition to be making a phone call then…"

"I know, I know," said Ned. "I'll call her in between my inevitable panicking. I'll need to call my dad too, anyway."

"Mom first," Sally insisted. "You know how possessive she's been about this whole thing. She'd be offended if we didn't tell her first."

"Possessive? You mean _meddling," _muttered Ned. "You'd think they were _her _children and not yours."

"Come on, I think grandparents have leeway to be a little strange upon the birth of their first grandchildren. Besides, she really hasn't been demanding _too _much… yet… well, she could be a lot worse. And the only thing she's really adamant about is that if there's a boy, we name him after my father."

"Oh…" Ned's face fell. He had put together a list of about fifty boy names and fifty girl names, but hadn't considered the name of Sally's late father among them. "But… that might not work, because I was hoping if there's a girl, that we'd name her after my mother. And I don't think it would be a good idea to have two kids named Joseph and Joanna. Two Joes? That would just be too confusing!"

Sally shrugged. "Well, maybe they'll all be boys or all be girls."

"Yeah, maybe." Ned leaned down to talk into Sally's belly again. "It would be really nice if you guys came out soon and let us know how many of you are boys and how many of you are girls… hint hint…"

"They're so huge!" moaned Sally. "Look how fat I am! I must be carrying four little monsters. It's gonna be a nightmare getting these kids out."

"It won't hurt, will it?" asked Ned. "I mean, I know it will hurt, obviously, at least a little—not from personal experience, obviously, but it's just common knowledge—but it won't hurt _too _much… right?"

Sally slowly smiled, not answering because, obviously, at least at this point in time she had no personal experience in the matter of childbirth either. She almost didn't _want _to give a reassuring answer, so touched by her husband's obvious concern and worry for her well-being.

"This is all my fault," Ned said, wringing his hands in anguish. "You're going through all this pain…" He blushed. "And I'm the reason you're pregnant in the first place. If it weren't for me—"

"Hey now, tiger, don't forget I was there at the moment of conception too," Sally interrupted, winking suggestively. "And I wasn't putting up any arguments, as you may recall."

"Oh, how could I forget?" Ned returned the wink, instantly turning on the charm that few Whos even realized he had. The charm that Sally absolutely could not resist. She giggled girlishly as he leaned in closer to her, expertly avoiding bumping into her mountainous belly, and ran his hands along her body.

"Wow, Sally, how do you pull it off? Hugely pregnant and yet you've still got curves."

It was Sally's turn to blush. Ned began stroking her hair and Sally moved her arms in order to return the favor… but then suddenly winced in pain.

Ned jerked back. "Sorry."

"No, it wasn't you…" She gave him a shaky smile. "I think the kids picked up on your hint…"

"Oh?... Oh. Oh! _OH!"_ Ned jumped off of her, flying into a panic, just as he had predicted. "It's time, it's time, it's time it's time it's time I've gotta call the hospital!"

"No! Call my mom first!" Sally demanded. "She'd be offended if you didn't!"

…………

Seeing as Ned was too busy doing panicked up and down pacing throughout the delivery room, Sally's mother, Sandra O'Malley, was left with the job of comforting the mother-to-be… and Sally didn't mind that too much, seeing as her mother was the one with experience in giving birth.

Although, maybe, ignorance is bliss.

"It'll only be really, _really _painful for a minute or two," Sandra was saying, in what must have been a comforting voice. "Then it'll only hurt as bad as it does now."

"It'll _WHAT?" _demanded Sally.

"It'll _WHAT?" _demanded Ned.

"But it hurts _so bad _right now!" moaned Sally. "I just want them _out, _Mom! And now you're telling me it'll get _worse?!"_

This was enough to get Ned to cease his pacing and race back to his wife's side. "Just… just try to look on the bright side, honey!" he said, although it seemed to be more an attempt to calm _himself _down. "It won't last too long, and then the pain will be over and we'll finally get to see our children!"

"Don't you _dare _talk to me about looking on the bright side!" snapped Sally dangerously. Ned jumped back. He could swear she had suddenly grown fangs. "It's _your _fault I'm here in the first place! _You're _not the one who has to push a kid through an opening the size of a tennis ball!"

"Oh great, and here it starts," sighed Ed, who, also having had experience in witnessing a birth, had learned to stay far, far out of the way.

"Calm down, sweetheart, I know how much stress you must be going through at a time like this but try to be reasonable…"

"_REASONABLE?!" _shrieked Sally. "I've got _LIVING PARASITES IN MY BELLY AND I WANT THEM OUT!"_

"Put that down in the baby book, Mommy called her kids parasites," chuckled Ed.

"You could have a little more compassion, you know!" snapped Sandra.

Sally let out a cry of pain. "It's hurting _worse _now! I think they're finally coming out!"

"Thank goodness, it'll all be over soon, sweetie!" said Sandra quickly. "Ned! Get down there and catch those babies!"

"_Catch?!" _cried Ned, completely flummoxed.

"Of course, 'catch'," chuckled Ed. "They're gonna shoot out of her like bullets."

"_Hurry!"_ barked Sandra.

"_Hurry!" _whimpered Sally.

Ned scampered to the correct end of the hospital bed (noticing for the first time that, unlike other hospital beds, the bed intended for giving birth lacked a footboard), and just in time, too, because with a rather gross squish of bodily fluids, a baby came shooting out right into Ned's waiting arms, nearly knocking him over with the force of its exit.

"Oh my _GOSH!" _shrieked Ned, looking down at the baby, who was regarding its father with what was clearly a "who are you and why I am suddenly out of that nice warm place I've been for the last two weeks?" look. "I'm a _fath—"_

"Shut up, there's another one coming!" shrieked Sally.

And again, with a _slosh, _another baby was projected out and landed squarely in Ned's arms, although jostling the older one a bit.

Ned was positively beaming, tears of joy running down his cheeks. "I'm a father _twice!" _he shouted happily.

"You can celebrate later!" snapped Sally indignantly. "I'm not done yet!"

Out popped another one. Ned, feeling old-hat at this sort of thing by now, expertly caught it with a bit of a dive.

"Stop showing off!" snapped Ed. "Don't get those kids out of birth order—it's very important!"

"Don't worry, Dad, it's oldest to youngest from left to right! Well, _my _left to right—"

"_INCOMING!" _Sally interrupted. Ned slid out his right arm so that there was just enough room for the fourth and final child to fit squarely in his elbow—and in fact, it was a perfect fit.

"Congratulations, son," said Ed fondly to a rather disheveled looking but still beaming with pride Ned. "A group of four in the family! That hasn't happened for a long time—"

"Wait."

It was Sally. Her voice was hoarse and her face was dripping with sweat, but the force of her interruption commanded the attention of her husband and father-in-law.

And good thing it did, too, because right at that moment—

POP.

A _fifth _child flew out.

In later years, while reflecting back on the situation, Ned would marvel at how the panic hadn't yet set in at that point. With lightning-fast instinct, he flung out his right arm while at the same time clasping his left arm to his body to keep the four other children in place, and the fifth child flew straight into Ned's outstretched right hand. Given the circumstances, it was a ten-point catch for sure, but the awkwardness of catching a flying kid in a single hand nearly toppled him over, and would have if Ed hadn't caught him and steadied him.

_Then _the panic set in.

"_Five?!"_

But it wasn't just Ned who said it. It was everyone in the room. Ned, Sally, Ed, Sandra, all the doctors and nurses, the newscaster on the television.

Five?

A group of _five?_

It had _never _happened before!

"Did I just do what I think I just did?" moaned Sally weakly.

"If you think you just had five children at once… then I think so…" Sandra murmured, still in shock.

The nurses seemed to get over the shock first.

"Hand us the babies," they said, filing up in an orderly line in front of Ned. Luckily, there were always five or six nurses in the delivery room during all births, just in case there was a complication with a birth and extra help was needed. Usually only two or three—sometimes just one, and very rarely four—were needed to actually take the babies to their health check, given right after birth.

"Don't get them out of birth order!" Ed shouted at both Ned, who handed the children one by one to the nurses in a sort of daze; and at the nurses, who filed out of the room through a back door—one, two, three, four, five—and they were gone.

Ned finally let himself fall to the floor, putting a hand against his forehead. "I feel like I'm going to faint…"

"_You _feel like you're going to faint," muttered Sally feebly.

Ned managed to push himself off the floor and make his way to Sally's side, holding her hand and stroking it, both too breathless to say a word, merely smiling in complete shock and joy at each other.

Ed smiled at the sight. "Come on, Ms. O'Malley," he said to Sandra, gently grabbing her by the arm and pulling her away. "Let's give the new parents some time to bond with their kids."

"But… but I need to see my grandkids again! _They're _only the parents!" protested Sandra as Ed led her out the front door of the delivery room, closing it behind them.

Sally exhaled deeply. "…Wow."

"Yeah… wow…" Ned breathed softly.

"You really caught them all? And kept them in birth order?"

"I… I guess so…"

"That takes talent…" She smiled.

The back door swung open, and one by one, the five nurses holding the five babies came back in. "We've still got them in birth ord—oh, never mind, the mayor's gone," said the first nurse with a chuckle. Ned and Sally smiled too.

The first nurse gently leaned down to the couple, holding the now cleaned oldest child. "Congratulations, you two. Four girls and a boy, all healthy and fine. Here's the boy, he's the oldest. Would you like to hold him?"

"Did you even have to ask that?" Sally asked, taking the baby boy from the nurse's arms.

And then, something beautiful happened.

Sally, giving a gasp of joy and delight upon holding her child for the first time, seemed to literally shine with happiness and love. The glow emanating from her blissful, loving smile was infectious, for watching Sally's newly awakened mother's love sent a tingle down Ned's spine.

"Oh, Ned, he's so beautiful," Sally murmured.

"Of course he is… look, he has your eyes!"

"What do you want to name him?"

Ned smiled. "I know you want to name him after your father, so that's fine with me. We can call him Joseph."

"No, that's not fair to you, because I know you want to name one of the girls Joanna. We can name him something else."

"No, no, I insist!"

"No, _I _insist."

"Pardon me for asking," interrupted the first nurse, "but why can't you just call him Joseph, and one of the girls Joanna?"

"Because then we'd have two Joes," explained Ned, "and we'd confuse the kids too much—"

"Well then," offered the nurse, "why don't you just name him Joe? Then he can be named after both Joes."

"Both Joes…" Sally smiled. "That's it, we'll call him Jojo. A Jo from my father and a Jo from your mother."

Ned smirked. "Talk about a name that's a compromise…"

Sally laughed. "Here, want to hold your 'compromise'?" She handed him Jojo.

Ned gingerly adjusted Jojo into a comfortable position in his arms. "Hey, Jojo," he whispered, touching his tiny hand with his own much larger one. Jojo's large, dark eyes looked up at his father with that same apprehensive curiosity with which he had regarded him when he was first born… and Ned felt himself melt.

"Oh, Sally, he's _perfect," _he said softly, cradling his son and kissing him on the forehead.

"You've got four more little bundles of perfection, you know," said the first nurse with a smile, stepping aside and making room for the second nurse, who handed the next child to Sally.

"Aw, look at her!" cooed Sally, touching the girl's cheek. The girl, seemingly as a form of greeting to her mother, took in two deep breaths…

…and sneezed all over her.

Ned burst out laughing. "Now _that's _quite the entrance into the world!"

Sally, wiping baby mucus off her face, glared at Ned.

Ned cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry about that…"

But he looked back to the nurses, who were fighting back giggles themselves, and let himself relax again.

…………

Ned's apartment could rather comfortably fit two Whos. Not seven, though. Definitely not nine, and yet since Ed and Sandra were at the house _constantly, _it seemed, nine was often the number. And, aggravatingly, sometimes there were even more. Since no one else in Who-ville had ever had five children at once before, reporters swarmed the house like angry bees.

"No, you _cannot _take another picture of them!" Ned shouted from the door frame, not even letting the reporters in this time. "You've taken enough pictures of them to fill an encyclopedia!"

FLASH! Undaunted, about eight cameramen decided to get a picture of father and child in the doorway anyway.

"Ow!" cried Ned, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, now thoroughly blinded.

"Which one are you holding, so we'll be able to correctly label the picture?"

Ned didn't answer, merely glaring at the media and turning into the house, slamming the door behind him. "Those greedy media workers, willing to barge into someone's private life just for a story… which one _am _I holding, anyway?"

He gingerly lifted the child's arm and looked at the tiny, monogrammed bracelet strapped to the wrist, the letter R reflecting in the artificial light. "Oh, Rhiannon. It's you. I, uh… I knew that."

"I'd think you'd be able to tell them apart by now, they're all so different," Sally quipped from her seat at the table. She didn't look up at him, being totally immersed in the scrapbook she was working on. Another one of the babies—Ned couldn't tell which one, and he couldn't see the bracelet from where he was to know for sure—was next to her in her (or his, if it was Jojo) baby chair, seated on the table.

"Anyway," Sally went on, "I don't mind all the media attention. It makes working on the babies' baby books and scrapbooks that much easier—Mom!"

For as she had been speaking, Sandra had swooped in and picked up the baby on the table to fuss over it—while still holding two others tightly in her arms. "Oh, Virginia, you're Grandma's little sweetie-pie, yes you are! Yes you are!" she cooed in disgustingly sweet baby-talk. Both Ned and Sally winced.

"Where's, uh…" Ned looked at the other three children, now knowing which one was Virginia, but not having a clue who the other two were, since he couldn't see their bracelets. "Where's the other one?"

Sally sighed. "Really, Ned, this early on in the game and you don't know your own children's names?"

"I know their names!" cried Ned. "Jojo, Zaneeta, Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia! They just all _look _alike!"

Which was true, and not just confined to this one family, either. Who babies were not as brightly colored as older Whos—and, in fact, older Whos would be just as dull-colored as baby Whos if they didn't dye their hair and fur. Seeing as that was a more personal choice, however, most Whos waited to give their children a more distinctive hair color and style, as well as fur color and style (their fur, of course, being styled the way you or I would wear clothing), until their first birthday. Then the little Whos could have at least some say (ie, pointing to whatever color they liked best) in their appearance.

But before then, for multiple births (which most Who births were), the babies wore their hospital bracelets with their names on them until their parents could accurately tell them apart. Or, in the case of Ned and Sally's children, their gold monogrammed bracelets, one of many gifts to them by their doting grandmother.

At that moment, Ed came into the room from the bedroom, holding the fifth child and answering Ned's question. And in this particular instance, Ned didn't have to look at the bracelet on the child's wrist, reasonably certain that the letter would be a J—seeing as Jojo got the bulk of attention from his grandfather. Ed had always gotten along better with boy children than with girls—although since the babies were only two weeks old, that was kind of a ridiculous excuse for Ed's disproportionate amount of attention given to Jojo, since boy babies and girl babies obviously aren't much different. No, Ned knew the real reason why Ed favored Jojo over the girls—it was because Jojo was the oldest.

"Dad!" cried Ned, looking at the wall clock. "Shouldn't you be at _work _right now?"

"Oh, but the duties of being mayor pale in comparison to spending time with grandchildren!" Sandra sighed, holding Virginia, Faye, and Zaneeta even closer to her. Faye let out a worried whimper.

"No, you're right, I should be!" cried Ed exuberantly. "You should come too! And so should Jojo!"

"That's ridiculous!" cried Ned, leaning over and trying to snatch Jojo away from his father—and not succeeding. "City Hall is no place for a baby!"

"He's future mayor, right?" insisted Ed. "The younger, the better! It'll be good for the boy to seep in the inner workings of the city council and government happenings! You weren't too much older than Jojo when I brought you in for the first time!"

"You poor thing," said Sally sympathetically.

"He's only two weeks old!" Ned made another grab for Jojo, but again Ed pulled him away. "He wouldn't get anything out of it! Besides, he's due for a nap soon, and—"

"Come on, this will be good for him!"

Ned felt himself tense with bottled-up anger. "Dad, listen, he's _my _son and I say he stays _here!"_

That unexpected outburst was enough to silence Ed into speechlessness. Taking advantage of the situation, Ned plucked Jojo out of his hands.

"Better not let the mayoral duties pile up on you, Ed," said Sally briskly. "The kids will still be here when you come back."

"Ahem! Right you are!" said Ed, clearing his throat gruffly and making his way towards the door. "I've got important documents to sign!" And with that, the over-doting grandpa left, admit shouts of "Mr. Mayor, can you tell us what it's like being the grandfather of fives?" by the media as he went out the door—and thankfully shut it fast behind him.

"That's showing him, Ned!" laughed Sandra. "I tell you, sometimes you've just got to stand firm against people who try to meddle in your children's lives—Rhiannon and Jojo, you two look like you need a hug from Grandma!—and standing up to your own father! That takes guts." As she said this, she pilfered her other two grandchildren right out of Ned's arms, despite his sputtering protests, now hoarding all five to herself.

"Uh, Mom?" said Sally.

Sandra turned to her daughter. "Yes, Sally?"

"You can go home now, if you want to. I'm sure you're very busy."

"Aw, nonsense! There's nowhere I'd rather be than with my little snuggle-bunnies!"

Sally stood up from the dining chair, clearing her throat. "I definitely appreciate all that you've done for the kids, but you _do_ have your own house. And you're welcome here any time you want to come. But you know, Ed isn't the only overpowering grandparent in this family."

Sandra scowled. "Why, of all the—"

Sally leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. "I love you, Mom. But Ned and I would like a little time to ourselves to, oh, I don't know, bond with our children. Emphasis on 'our'."

"Alright, you rascal, I get the hint," sniffed Sandra, but with a playful flip of her hair to show she wasn't as offended as she was making herself out to be. "I'll see you tomorrow!" She gave all five of her grandchildren kisses—both Jojo and Faye were not pleased—handed the children to their thankful parents, and quickly swept out of the room, the roar of the media out in the hallway only heard for a second.

Ned let out an exasperated sigh. "Promise me that when we're grandparents, you'll be nothing like her!"

"As long as you promise me that you'll be nothing like your dad," groaned Sally. "Whenever Jojo has children, make sure you acknowledge _all _his children, not just the oldest."

"What, and fail to creep out the future mayor? Isn't that one of the mayor's official duties—'scare oldest grandchild'?" asked Ned jokingly.

"Well, your dad's doing a good job of it," snorted Sally, brushing back Jojo's hair. He, Zaneeta, and Rhiannon were all in her arms.

"It'll all get better soon," said Ned, trying to sound cheerful. "The house just needs the roofs up and then it'll be ready to live in… my dad and your mom will start acting more normal once the novelty of grandkids wears off… the media will lose interest eventually and back down…"

"You know," admitted Sally, "as annoying as all this is, it really isn't bothering me that much. I mean…" She smiled at him. "I have you, and our kids, and for some reason—this is going to sound really cheesy—but having a family makes me not really care about the little things. I have what's important."

Ned sighed happily, his heart soaring. "So do I."


	4. III

_One year ago_

Ned carefully made his way through the pitch-dark room, having tucked in all eighty-eight of his daughters for bed.

When they had first moved into the house twelve years ago, Ned admitted that he had his doubts that the house would fit _five _children, let alone the fifteen or twenty he wanted. And the house was quick to be put to the test of just how many inhabitants it could hold. About a year later, when Sally got pregnant again, the whole town of Who-ville waited in anticipation to see if she would repeat her five birth. Well, she did one better. Two better, in fact. She had a _seven _birth.

Only two pregnancies and twelve children already! This was why, on her third pregnancy, both Sally and Ned had been skeptical that there was even a child in there, for she gained hardly any weight at all. That one had been—well, a one. Ned admitted that he spoiled that child, Rhonda, a bit. Well, okay, so he spoiled _all _of his children, but Rhonda more so, trying to make it up to her that she didn't have any birth siblings. It wasn't that big of a deal, really—just a month later Sally got pregnant again and had three more girls, so it wasn't as if Rhonda was starved for sibling companionship. Now they were at sixteen—fifteen girls and a boy—which was within Ned's projected number of children range. They had their hands full. That was enough children. Sally went on the birth control pill after that.

But, ten months later, she was pregnant again. And this time had _eleven _at once.

From then on, despite going through every birth control they could find, and even despite trying to, ahem, control their more primal urges, they just kept on having huge litters of children. After the eleven, they had eight. Then six. Then nine. Then ten. Then five. Then _twelve._ Then seven. Then five. All girls. All—although dearly loved—unexpected and unplanned.

Ed had been right that the bedrooms in the house were big—but none of them were really fit to hold eighty-eight children.

Ned stepped out of the girls' room and walked across the hallway to what _would _have been the boys' bedroom if the boy to girl ratio of children had been even a little more proportionate. But no, this bedroom still housed only one—Jojo.

He knocked on the door and pushed it open a crack. As usual, Jojo was still awake, reading a comic book.

"Hey, Jojo, whatcha reading?" Ned asked.

Jojo held up the comic book to show the title: "The Adventures of Turbofist".

Ned laughed. "They're still making Turbofist comics, huh? He's been around since I was a kid! What's he been up to lately?"

Jojo shrugged, and probably would have looked irritated at having his quiet reading time disturbed if he wasn't too sleepy to really care.

"Well, uh… I guess I'll leave you to your reading, then," said Ned, a little awkwardly. _It's just a stage Jojo's going through, _he thought to himself, _he's a twelve-year-old boy and it's not cool to hang out with your parents at that age, that's all._ But it _wasn't_ all—Jojo had always been unusually quiet. Even with his birth siblings, who were by far his best friends, Jojo rarely said much more than two sentences.

There was, of course, also the fact that Ned just found it easier to talk to his daughters than to his son—and this didn't stem from any sullenness on Jojo's part, either. It had everything to do with gender. It was more socially acceptable to be doting to daughters. His twelve-year-old girls weren't embarrassed by hugs from their dad, and their dad wasn't embarrassed to give them. It was easy to show a daughter that you love her… but a twelve-year-old son? He's not going to take kindly to hugs and kisses on the cheek. Look, he hardly even tolerates dear ol' Dad coming in to tell him goodnight.

"Don't stay up too late," he said, ruffling his son's hair a bit. "Tomorrow's a school day. Goodnight. I love you."

"'Night," mumbled Jojo, burying his nose back in his comic book.

That one word sent Ned sprinting to his own bedroom, about to burst from joy. "Sally Sally Sally guess what?!"

Sally, who had fallen asleep reading a magazine in bed, jerked awake with a start. "Huh? What?"

"Oh… sorry…"

"Well, I'm awake now, so tell me, what's got you so excited?"

"Jojo actually talked to me just now!"

"That's great! What did he say?"

"He said 'goodnight'! Well, no, actually, he just said 'night'. But it's real progress! Maybe sometime soon he'll start using words that have more than one syllable!"

"He's just going through a phase," said Sally, echoing Ned's previous thoughts. "And he's just quiet by nature anyway. I'm sure soon enough he'll start—" she yawned, holding it for a long time—"talking to you again," she finished with the exhale of her yawn.

"Tough day, huh?" Ned asked.

Sally rolled her eyes. "Didn't I tell you? Heidi and Kayla flooded the bathroom today, I got another letter from Zoe's teacher saying that she instigated another fight, Dorothy thought it would be hilarious to throw her lunch on the ceiling and Penelope, Lydia, and Audrey all followed suit—"

"Yeesh," said Ned sympathetically.

"Oh, I'm not even halfway done yet," sighed Sally.

"I, uh… I get the general idea," muttered Ned, feeling his face burn with guilt as he looked away. Not for the first time, he reflected on how much Sally got the short end of the stick here. She was intelligent, she was capable, she was well-educated—and yet she was reduced to popping out a new gaggle of babies every year or so and then being tied to the house to watch them, while her husband was gone most of the day at his rather pointless job, the official title of it being "Mayor-in-Training"—simply put, he followed his dad all day, and that was it.

Sally had more than enough reasons to walk out on the family, just like Ned's mother had years earlier.

"Oh great, you're doing it again," muttered Sally.

_That_ didn't sound good.

"What? Doing what?" Ned stammered, looking back up at her.

"You know what," said Sally, folding her arms crossly. "You've been avoiding me as much as possible these last few months."

"I'm only avoiding you," Ned blurted out, "because it seems like every time I so much as _look _at you, I get you pregnant!"

Sally burst out laughing.

"What?" cried Ned. "I'm being serious!"

"Oh Ned," said Sally, still giggling, "you always make me laugh."

Sensing Sally wasn't upset at him, Ned sat down in bed next to her and took her hands in his own. "You do know that, despite all eighty-nine pieces of evidence to the contrary, I don't think of you as just some machine for making babies, right? That more than anything, I want you to be happy?"

"Of course," said Sally, kissing Ned on the cheek. "And I _am _happy. Sure, I never quite imagined my life being like this before, but right now, I really couldn't imagine doing anything else. You and the kids are my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"But it's so much work for you!"

"Heck, I never said it was _easy," _she laughed. "But I'm not alone. You're a big help, and so is my mom, and lately even JZRFV have been real lifesavers."

JZRFV was the quick way that Ned and Sally would refer to their five oldest children—and thus, the five given by far the most responsibility. "They've always helped out with you, though," Ned pointed out, "even when they were little. That's just part of being the oldest kids in the family."

"Well, whatever it is, they've been almost parent-like lately, the way they take care of their younger sisters," said Sally with a smile. "Zaneeta and Virginia especially. You know how much Virginia loves kids. And Zaneeta loves creating order out of chaos. Of course, Jojo's off doing his own thing a lot of the time, and Faye's not always pleased about taking care of the real little ones either—you know how she gets around germs."

"But she still helps?" Ned insisted. "Faye and Jojo still help?"

"Of course. They're very responsible. Just like their dad."

Ned rolled his eyes playfully. "Flattery will get you nowhere, dear—what is it you want?"

"I just want for you to talk to me again and acknowledge my existence—like you are now." She looked down at her body. "I mean, I realize I'm not as fantastic looking as I used to be—"

"Are you kidding?" cried Ned. "You're still as beautiful as the day I met you!"

"Now who's spewing out the flattery?" said Sally with a wink. "Come on, I've had thirteen pregnancies. My body's sagging in areas I didn't even know it was possible to sag in."

"Pppsssh. You still look amazing—like you've never been pregnant in your life! _I've _never had any complaints," he added with a suggestive smile.

Sally, as usual, was helpless to his charms and blushed deeply. "Are you aiming for pregnancy number fourteen here or what?"

Ned recoiled sharply.

Sally laughed. "Now there's a reliable birth control! Why didn't I think of it sooner?"

"But you see, I _have _thought of it," sighed Ned unhappily, "which is why I try to avoid you, because every time I get near you, I want to… well, you know," he finished awkwardly, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well, then, you'd probably be very interested in the article I was just reading," said Sally, reaching for the magazine she had fallen asleep reading. "There's been a study on operations—"

"No, no, no, absolutely not!" cried Ned, tearing the magazine out of Sally's hands. "How could you even _think _such a thing? You know how dangerous operations are!" Rarely did anything go wrong with a Who's body, but when it did, operations were sometimes attempted to fix the internal problem… but one wrong move and the poor Who being operated on would find him or herself literally blown into a million pieces. Ned's paranoia was not unfounded in the slightest.

"You should read the article," Sally insisted. "The only reason operations _used _to be dangerous is because Whos didn't know what they were doing. But there's this new breed of doctors who have found how to perform operations much more safely—you should read the comments in there by this Dr. Larue person. She seems to know what she's talking about and insists that operations can be much safer than they used to be—"

"But it's still a risk that—that I can't let you take!" Ned stammered. "Because if anything happened to you, I-I-I… don't know what I'd do!"

Sally pulled Ned into a warm hug, touched by his paranoia. "I haven't scheduled any doctor appointment yet, sweetheart, I'm just looking at my options. Believe it or not, I'm not too crazy about the idea of risking being blown into a thousand pieces myself."

"That makes you beautiful _and _intelligent," said Ned, wrapping his arms around her protectively.

"I want to talk to this Dr. Larue, just to find out more information," said Sally. "You'll come with me, won't you? It doesn't mean anything for certain…"

"As if I'd let you go by yourself," snorted Ned. "I'm definitely coming, to talk you out of it!"

Sally smirked. "Well, who knows… maybe you'll change your mind."

…………

Work that next day was a nightmare—Ned was expected to sit through insanely long meetings of planning next year's Who Centennial. It wasn't as if he wasn't excited for the huge celebration that would be sweeping through the town next year, but the building anxiety of meeting Dr. Larue later that day was settling poorly in his stomach. He and Sally were going to go to Who U. around 3:30, which was right around when the kids got home from school, so they could leave JZRFV in charge. But from the looks of things, he feared he might be stuck in planning meetings for longer than that.

"Do you think it would be possible for me to leave early?" Ned asked his father during their lunch break. "Sally and I are going to talk to this doctor from Who U. because she's got her mind set on getting this dangerous and probably life-threatening operation…"

Ed gave Ned a chastising look. "Come on now, son, these meetings are very important!"

"Important for you, maybe," sighed Ned, "because you're the mayor. I'm just the mayor-in-training. And I've got to go with her to talk her out of this crazy idea she has! The Who Centennial is a pretty low priority right now."

Ed cleared his throat. "Actually, Ned, I've been meaning to talk to you about the Who Centennial…"

"What about it?"

"I'm thinking, basically, that it would be nice to go out with a bang, you know?"

"What do you mean…?"

"I'll put it to you straight: I'm planning on retiring after the Centennial."

Ned dropped his sandwich into his mug, creating a splash of tea that drenched him and even got Ed a little damp. _"What? _But that means, you're saying, that means that in a year you expect me to become…"

"Mayor, yes," Ed finished for him.

"I can't do that!" cried Ned. "I have eighty-nine kids all under the age of thirteen, for goodness sake! I can't manage my family and the town at the same time! Can't you wait until at least twenty or so of them are out of the house?"

"What, and you think that'll make it easier?" said Ed. "Come on. You must know by now that being a parent is a lifelong investment. Just because they're out of the house doesn't mean that you won't still feel responsible for them. You _know _that."

Ned sighed in resignation. "Yeah… I do."

"I'm getting old," said Ed bluntly. "I'm starting to look it, and lord knows I'm starting to feel it too. And I think this town needs some fresh new ideas from someone who genuinely cares about its welfare—someone like _you."_

"But I just don't think I'm ready for that kind of responsibility," Ned protested.

Ed snorted. "You probably won't think you're ready until you've been at the job for a year and realize that you _were _ready all along. Come on, all these years of following me around have to account to something, don't they? That reminds me—" Ed pulled out his organizer. "The twenty-fifth of next month is 'Bring Your Child to Work Day'."

"Any limit on the number of children allowed?" Ned asked jokingly.

"Well, for your own sanity, I'd suggest as few as possible," said Ed. "You ought to have Jojo tag along with you, though—and don't use that age excuse anymore! He's twelve years old now. He's more than old enough to start learning the basics."

"I'll bring him," said Ned in a defeated tone. "I don't think he'll like it, but I'll bring him."

"Excellent!" said Ed. "And since you've been so obliging in my requests, I'll let you take this afternoon off. Make sure you're here tomorrow, though. We're going to be going through the safety procedures of the flaming torch juggling competition."

"The best safety procedure for that one would have to be 'call it off'," Ned muttered, pulling his completely tea-soaked sandwich out of his mug.

"Ned?" said Ed, in a strangely serious tone.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I know you disagree with me… but I know you'll be a great mayor."

Wringing out his sandwich, Ned smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

…………

Despite Ed letting him off the hook for that day, Ned still barely made it back home by 3:30. Mainly because the chairman, who was not Ned's favorite person in the world and the feeling was mutual, decided to make the mayor-in-training fill out his paperwork. Then file it. Then get him some coffee. Then return some phone calls for him. Every time Ned tried to get out of whatever ridiculous task the chairman made him do, the chairman would just say, "It's not good for the future mayor to try to get out of his duties… what would the citizens say?"

So he literally ran back home, nearly crashing into three unicyclists on his way… but he wasn't fast enough to avoid Sally waiting for him at the door, giving him a rather sour look.

"It's not my fault!" protested Ned as a form of greeting. "That darn chairman thinks I'm his little servant!"

"And you obviously do nothing to alter his view," sighed Sally. "Well, let's get going. The kids are already home from school." She turned to Zaneeta, who was peering out of the doorway. "Alright, Zaneeta, you and your birth siblings are in charge until your dad and I get back."

"Got it," smiled Zaneeta. "No parties, no loud music, no indoor soccer games, we'll hide anything we break, I swear we'll all be in bed by two AM—"

"Don't get your hopes up, young lady," said Sally. "We'll be back by supper."

"Ha ha, of course! That's what I meant to say." Zaneeta craned her head to address her father. "Hey Dad, how was work?"

"Stressful, as usual," sighed Ned. "Actually, even more so…" he added, under his breath.

"It sounds like both of you could use a little down time," said Zaneeta, pushing her mother towards her father. "So you both stay out as long as you like. I can handle the house for more than a few hours."

"Even supper?" asked Ned.

"Rhiannon and Alison can help with that. They both like to cook, you know."

Sally smiled and ruffled Zaneeta's hair. "What would I do without you?"

"Go crazy," said Zaneeta matter-of-factly.

"If you need anything, call your grandma," said Sally. "See you later—and good luck!"

"Luck? I don't need luck. Handling crises is my natural-born talent." Zaneeta grinned and went back into the house, leaving her parents alone outside.

"I'm sorry I'm late," said Ned, as the two of them started walking towards Who U. "I honestly planned on getting home hours ago but I just got swamped at work."

"I'm pregnant," said Sally.

The abruptness of her statement left Ned taken aback, but only for a second. He laughed. "Ha ha, very funny, Sally!"

"Ha ha! I'm serious."

Ned's body slumped over in shock. "You're joking. Please tell me you're joking."

"It is kind of funny timing, seeing as we're seeing a doctor who might be able to prevent this from happening again, and definitely a great practical joke to pull on someone… but no, I'm not joking."

Ned threw his arms up in exasperation. "See, this is what I'm talking about!" he cried. "Whenever I so much as _look _at you I—"

"You did more than look at me last night," reminded Sally, smirking a bit despite the situation.

"Oh, I see what you just did," said Ned angrily. "You _wanted _me to get you pregnant so I'd agree to this operation you want!"

"Oh yeah, that makes _loads _of sense, Ned," said Sally sarcastically. "I purposely got pregnant in an attempt to not get pregnant again. Is your logic quotient dangerously low today, or _what?"_

"_You're _the one whose logic quotient is low! What with this stunt you've pulled off—"

"It takes _two _to make a baby, genius! I wasn't working alone!"

"Well, if _you _didn't seduce me all the time by being so darn _gorgeous, _this wouldn't have happened in the _first _place!"

"Well… well if _you…" _But Sally couldn't finish her thought, because she was overcome with giggles. "If I didn't _what? What _did you say?"

"And why do you always have to laugh whenever we get into a really good argument?" demanded Ned, still upset.

"I'm not the one who's saying sweet and ridiculous and totally anger-stopping statements like _that, you _are!" giggled Sally, wiping a few tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Oh, so now it's _my _fault for… ruining… our argument…" Ned finished lamely.

"I just can't stay mad at you, sweetie," said Sally, still laughing to herself.

"That was shaping up to be a good argument, too," said Ned, sounding a little glum, although letting Sally slide her arm around his waist.


	5. IV

When Ned and Sally arrived at Who U., they weren't expecting for Dr. Larue to find them before they found her, but that's exactly what happened. They had hardly stepped on campus, right next to the Who Science and Research Building, when a youngish, nerdy-looking Who opened the door and gave a yelp of surprise.

"Oh my goodness, it's really _you!" _she cried out, speaking with a lisp. "Ned McDodd and Sally O'Malley—what an honor to finally meet you!" She rushed out and grabbed Ned by the arm, shaking his hand furiously.

"Jeez, I didn't realize we were expected," stammered Sally, Ned too taken aback to say anything.

"You weren't, but it's ironic because I've been wanting to interview you two regarding my research on reproduction," said the Who, dropping Ned's arm and focusing her attention on shaking Sally's hand to a level where it seemed she wanted to pump it completely off. "I don't know if you've read my article on hysterectomies—"

"Oh, then you must be Dr. Larue!" said Sally. "You're just the Who we wanted to talk to!"

"I assumed as much," said Dr. Larue. "I've actually been doing a lot of research on you and your husband, and was planning on contacting you for an interview in the next few days, so it's very opportune that you should come now. Step inside and I'll show you my office," she said, motioning towards the door to the building and heading up the stairs. Ned and Sally followed her, Ned still rubbing his sore hand with a pained expression.

"I hadn't realized there was a whole field of research on this," said Sally as the three Whos made their way through the science building.

"It's a relatively new area of study, but very important," said Dr. Larue. "We have only finally gotten it through our heads that we Whos are ridiculously fertile, with the average number of children for a married couple at 10.2. If something isn't done soon, we'll be facing overpopulation."

"Overpopulation?" Ned asked, not understanding.

"Simply put, in a short amount of time there will be too many Whos and not enough space to house them. Not enough resources. We'll have to find a new place to house the overflow, or find a more reliable means of birth control—or both." She pushed open the door to the office pod, where five other doors led to the offices of various doctors and professors.

"I hadn't even thought of that," Ned admitted to Sally. "Where are all our kids going to go once they're out of the house?"

"It's a valid question even for families with 10.2 children," said Dr. Larue. She paused for a moment. "Well, ten or eleven. I guess it would be rather difficult to have point two of a child. But yes, your situation is approximately 8.725 times greater."

Ned and Sally exchanged confused glances.

"Hey, is it true that you really know all your kids' names in order?" asked a student, who was studying in the office pod with a friend.

Dr. Larue sighed. "Hugh, I hardly think that that's of any scientific concern—"

"Of course we do," said Ned, with a bit of a sigh. He got tired of hearing this question, because it was usually the first question anyone he met at work asked him. Not "How's the planning for the Who Centennial coming along?" or "Did ordinance 777777777776 get passed?" or even "Can I borrow a quarter?" Even people who had heard him list off his kids before liked to hear it again, it was that impressive to them.

"Can you do it now?" Hugh asked.

"Well, seeing as you're not one of the city council members who have asked me about twenty times _each, _I guess I will," said Ned with a tolerant shrug. "Jojo, Zaneeta, Rhiannon, Faye, Virginia, Karen, Marlene, Tonya, Alison, Logan, Karley, Nicole, Rhonda, Jenny, Caroline, Maria, Liz, Hanna, Sophie, Monica, Dawn, Robin, Sheila, Amy, Melanie, Bianca, Josie, Becca, Hailey, Pam, Claire, Annie, Betty, Winnie, Zoe, Kayla, Samantha, Maryanne, Jane, Isabelle, Heidi, Kristin, Amanda, Katrina, Ashley, Emma, Alexandra, Sara, Stephanie, Olivia, Deanne, Eileen, Holly, Daisy, Della, Paige, Heather, Stacy, Abigail, Hildy, Megan, Natalie, Tiffany, Polly, Cora, Penelope, Ruth, Dorothy, Audrey, Madeline, Rachel, Linda, Jill, Bonnie, Harriet, Lydia, Laura, Michelle, Grace, Julie, Brooke, Lola, Hooly, Giana, Chloe, Danielle, Leah, Kim, and Matilda."

He had rattled those off at lightning speed, leaving Hugh and his friend completely dumbfounded.

Dr. Larue adjusted her glasses. "Well, I can see I'll be interviewing you later on about memory as well, for that is another one of my areas of study."

"How many areas of study do you have?" Sally asked as Dr. Larue opened the door to the office.

"Oh, only a few," said Dr. Larue humbly as Ned and Sally's jaws dropped, staring at the dozens of diplomas and certificates crowding her walls. "My main interest is biology, focusing mostly in the skeletal, nervous, and reproductive systems, although I have dabbled a bit into the circular and respiratory systems as well. I've also earned degrees in physics, specifically relativity and thermodynamics. I've always wanted a degree in quantum mechanics as well, but I guess I've only got so much time. Right now I'm working on my inorganic chemistry degree." She pointed to one of the few blank spaces left on the wall. "I'm planning to hang it here, next to my other chemistry degrees—physical chemistry and biochemistry. I also have degrees in algebra, geometry, and calculus. Also, my interest in neuroscience has lead to studies in psychology. I've earned a degree in cognitive psychology and have looked into developmental psychology as well."

Ned and Sally continued to stare at the walls, their jaws nearly touching the floor.

"Oh, and I have a degree in Whostory too," she quickly added. "Not that I've ever had any practical use for it, but you know, when you're young and haven't quite decided what to do with your life, you study things that you later realize don't work out for you. But since I was so close to finishing the degree, I thought I might as well have something to show for my time and effort."

"…Well, if I never need an answer on… anything, I'll know who to call," Ned finally managed to say.

"No, _not _anything," said Dr. Larue tersely. "I couldn't tell you the first thing about literature, music, or art. I can't make heads or tails of those. Far too subjective. I can't understand things that don't have a straight answer."

"Still though, that's very impressive," said Sally, managing to get her jaw back to a normal level. "All those degrees, and you're so young…"

"I'm twenty-six," sighed Dr. Larue. "Twenty-six, and _still _no quantum mechanics degree…"

"Whoa, hey now, I'm thirty-five and don't have _any _degrees!" cried Ned. "Although, of course, if they had a degree for 'being the city council's lackey' I'd have that one earned in a heartbeat…"

"This is all very interesting," Sally interrupted, "but the main reason we came here was to learn more about those operations. What would they entail?"

"Are they safe?" Ned interjected.

"Yes, that's an important consideration too," Sally added. "Is there a chance of any long-term complications?"

"Like exploding?"

"Calm down, Ned."

"It's a valid question," said Dr. Larue reasonably. "In the past, any sort of hysterectomy had a rather high fatality rate, although the proportions perhaps only seem large because of the small amounts performed."

"Of course there were small amounts performed—because the operations are obviously dangerous!" Ned cried.

"Not necessarily," countered Dr. Larue. "The Whos who have had operations obviously had dysfunctional bodies to begin with. It is possible that the high fatality rate stems not from the operations themselves, but the simple fact that they _needed _an operation."

"But I don't need an operation," Sally butted in. "It would just make things a lot easier for me… if it's safe, of course."

"Well, in your case, I'd recommend a tubal ligation."

Ned blinked in confusion. "What on earth is _that?"_

"Sealing the fallopian tubes to prevent fertilization, of course."

Sally bit her lip. "Is it effective?"

"Is it _safe?" _Ned demanded.

"Yes and yes. At least theoretically."

"That's not a comforting postscript!" cried Ned.

"The only reason it remains theoretical is because it hasn't been tested on anyone yet," said Dr. Larue levelly. "Obviously, there's never a guarantee for one hundred percent effectiveness for anything, but keep in mind that nearly all of the fatalities in previous operations were from surgical _removals _from bodies that were not healthy. This would simply be an _alteration _of a perfectly healthy and working body… working perhaps a little _too _well."

"On that note," said Sally, "I'll have to have the operation a month or so from now, not right away. I'm pregnant again so I probably shouldn't be having any operations until the kids are born, and I don't think it would be a good idea to go poking in there so soon after the birth."

"Absolutely not," said Ned emphatically.

"Absolutely not," said Dr. Larue. "Yes, I'd wait a month before you schedule an appointment with a surgeon. I would suggest Dr. Hoovey—he's the only doctor I've talked to so far that has validated my research, although others are at least receptive to it—"

"Wait a minute," Ned interrupted, "you mean to say that _you _won't be doing any operations?"

Dr. Larue barked out a laugh. "Good heavens, Mr. McDodd, no! I'm a researcher, not a surgeon."

"Why does it matter?" Sally asked Ned.

"Because… she sounds like she knows what she's talking about, but how do I know that this Dr. Hoovey does?"

"If I sound like I know what I'm talking about," said Dr. Larue with a smirk, "then if I say that Dr. Hoovey is a highly respected doctor and surgeon and I would trust him with my life, would you believe me?"

Sally smirked as well. "She's got you there."

…………

"I still think it's a bad idea."

"And I still think it's a good idea," Sally replied briskly. She and Ned had gotten some reading materials and more information on the procedure from Dr. Larue, and were now walking—although not home. They had mutually decided to take Zaneeta up on her offer and make a quick stop at a malt shop before relieving her and her birth siblings of their somewhat parental duties. "Come on, you said it yourself, Dr. Larue seems to really know what she's talking about, and she thinks there'll be no complications."

"It only seems to us that she knows what she's talking about," said Ned, "because of all those diplomas and degrees on her walls. It's all psychological. We see those and think, 'Wow, she's really smart!' and thus believe everything she says, even if everything she tells us is a total lie!" He burrowed his brow in thought. "You know, I bet she did that on purpose, with all those degrees. I bet most of them aren't even real."

"And why exactly do you think she's so set on leading us astray?" asked Sally, only with a little bit of playfulness in her voice. "I've never met her before now, and neither have you, so she obviously doesn't have some grudge against us and is out for vengeance. Why do you think she's purposely deceiving us?"

"You're getting mad at me. Please don't get mad at me." Ned was almost begging. "But could you please look at this from my perspective? My wife, who I am absolutely crazy about, wants a potentially dangerous operation because when we're paired together, we suddenly become Mr. Fertility and Ms. Super Baby Maker. I completely understand _why _you want this, but… but don't you think the risks are too great to, well, risk? Wait, that sounded stupid… Look, there's other ways we could go about making sure you never get pregnant again! We could have separate bedrooms—I'll sleep on the couch if I have to, alright? I don't _want _to, but I'd definitely do that for you, to avoid temptation, to avoid running the risk of us having four hundred kids! …Why are you smiling at me like that?"

Because Sally was smiling, but not in a laughing way, not in a sarcastic way, but in a warm, glowing way, similar to how she looked each time she held one of her newborn children. "You'd do that for me?" she breathed.

Ned opened his mouth to answer, but Sally put a hand to his lips, silencing him. "But you don't have to do that for me. I don't want you to. All I want is to be able to touch you and have you and love you without having to worry about if we'll be able to handle the consequences. I want our family to be complete. See? We could have it both ways. We could have it so these—" she pointed to her belly—"will be our youngest, and you don't have to sleep on the couch."

"I know, I know," murmured Ned, "but every time I hear the word 'operation' I think of death, and I just can't _stand_ the thought of—"

And suddenly he couldn't talk, because Sally had yanked him towards her and enveloped him in a sudden, passionate kiss.

_Well, at least one thing's for sure, she's definitely not mad at me, _he thought, for a few dizzying, blissful moments forgetting his argument with her. Dizzying, blissful, but also short, for he suddenly remembered her crazy mission, that crazy mission that came with the consequence of possible death—_death! _What would he do _without _her? His mind reeled, in horrific imagination of life without her, and suddenly he flung his arms around her and held her protectively, kissing her back with notable lack of restraint.

They were both brought back to a level of restraint upon hearing the approving cheers from every Who passing by—they were out in public, after all.

Abashed, they pulled their lips away from each other, although they still held each other tightly.

"You really want this, don't you?" Ned asked softly. "You really want to make a guinea pig of yourself."

"Yep."

"Even if I say no, you're still going to do it, right?"

"You won't say no."

Ned sighed. "You know me too well."

Sally smiled. "This is going to sound crazy, but just now, when we were kissing, I could swear I could feel the babies inside me move."

"You haven't even been pregnant for a day! You know that's impossible."

"It's not impossible." Sally let go of Ned and put her hands on her belly. "I definitely felt them."

Ned grinned. "You felt them leap with unrestrained joy as they witnessed our deep, abiding love for each other?"

"Either that or they're hungry," said Sally teasingly. "Because I sure am. How about that malt?"

…………

Nighttime was the only time when the McDodd-O'Malley household was actually quiet—a rare event, Claire reflected to herself, and it hardly seemed right to waste it by sleeping through it. But that wasn't why she was out of her bed that night—she couldn't sleep and was thirsty.

Her small footsteps echoed perhaps a bit too loudly through the kitchen as she climbed up on a counter to reach the cupboard, all the while clutching her stuffed elephant, Milford, close to her body. With ninety-one people in the household to feed, Sally was very strict about knowing what was eaten and drank, and when. Which was why the eight-year-old Who couldn't help but feel a little guilty as she made her way to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of milk, pouring herself just a tiny amount—but she knew her mother would know, anyway.

The only point of vindication Claire had going for her was that her mother probably wouldn't suspect her of taking it. Being the thirty-first of eighty-nine children, and with no real special traits that made her stand out, Claire could live her daily life in a strange, almost invisible-like status. She wasn't the only boy, like Jojo; she wasn't the only one without a birth sibling, like Rhonda; she never had much to talk about, like… well, like practically all of her other siblings did. Her twelve seconds with her father at breakfast usually went something like this: "Hey, Claire!" "Hey, Daddy." "How are you today?" "Fine." "How's school?" "Fine." Ring. Time's up.

She certainly didn't feel lonely. She had her seven birth siblings, her eighty-one other siblings, and when all else failed, Milford to talk to. But she did feel unspecial. Not unique. Plain, ordinary, normal.

"Alright, who's up at this time of night?"

Claire spun around from the open refrigerator door upon hearing her father's voice, feeling a wave of dread sweep upon her on being caught, unable to answer her father's question. Ned rubbed his eyes a bit to adjust to the bright light set off by the open fridge, blinked, and took another look. "Oh, Claire, it's you."

"I was thirsty," Claire said, finding her voice in an instant, the words tumbling out of her mouth. "Please don't tell Mommy."

Ned took the carton of milk from Claire's hands. "I won't tell her if you don't," he said with a smile as he opened the cupboard and grabbed a glass for himself.

"You're thirsty too?"

"Thirsty, and I can't sleep. Neither can you, I see," he added, ruffling her hair affectionately.

"You're not going to make me go back to bed?" Claire asked, incredulously.

"Not until you've finished your milk! Maybe that'll help _both _of us."

The two sat down next to each other at the long, winding table, Claire desperately trying to think of something to say. It was rare that she—or any of her siblings—had such an opportunity for an uninterrupted, one-on-one audience with her father, and she knew she should grab this moment and make the most of it.

Finally, with lack of anything else to say, she started their conversation on a different note than their conversations usually went—_she _asked _him _a question.

"Why can't you sleep, Daddy?"

Ned sighed. "Just worrying about the future, I guess."

"What about the future?"

"_Everything," _moaned Ned helplessly.

Claire gulped. She knew her dad was busy and had a lot on his plate, but she had never really thought to think how much.

She reached over and touched his arm. "It's okay, Daddy," she said, which sounded dumb to her—things aren't okay just because someone says they're okay, everyone knows that!

But Ned smiled at her, looking genuinely thankful for her words. Claire smiled back. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to.

"Are you worried about the new babies?" she asked.

"Amongst other things… but yes, your new sisters are at the front of my mind," admitted Ned. Sally was due in about four days, and yet the house still didn't seem a bit ready for the new arrivals. "Actually, that's part of the reason why I can't sleep—your mommy's so huge, she takes up the entire bed! Don't tell her I said that," he added hurriedly.

Claire cocked her head in confusion. "How do you know the babies are girls?"

"I don't," shrugged Ned, "but why break our girl-streak now?"

"You don't want them, do you?" Claire abruptly asked without thinking. "You and Mommy didn't want anymore kids, I thought. You didn't want Chloe, Danielle, Leah, Kim, and Matilda either, right?"

"Now, sweetie, that's not true," said Ned emphatically, leaning down to keep close eye contact. "It's more a case of… we weren't expecting them. We weren't planning for them. But we do want them, we want them very much, just like we wanted you and all of your siblings."

"Well, you can tell me that," said Claire with a stubborn pout, "but I can't see why anyone would want this many kids. I know I don't. When I'm a grown-up I only want five or ten."

"And you'll be able to have as many or as few as you like," said Ned.

"Was eighty-nine the amount that Mommy liked?" asked Claire cynically.

"No, but… things will be different when you're older," Ned finally said. "They're already starting to change. These babies will be the last your mom and I will have. By the time you're a grown-up, you won't have to have any more than what you want."

"That's good," said Claire, taking a gulp of milk—too fast. She spilled some on Milford. "Oh no, Milford!" she whimpered.

"Uh oh. Let me see him," said Ned. Claire handed her father the elephant. Ned examined the arm that had gotten wet. "Don't worry, Claire, I think Milford's going to be okay," he said, grabbing a hand towel hanging on the wall and wiping the milk off of the elephant's arm.

"Did any get on the nose?" Claire asked.

"I think it's called a trunk. And no, there isn't any milk on the trunk." Ned handed Milford back to Claire.

"Do you think elephants used to exist somewhere?"

"I don't think so, sweetie. They're mythological creatures."

"Mythological?"

"Imaginary."

"But maybe they did exist, a long time ago. Or maybe they still do, somewhere far away where we don't know about them." She took another gulp of her milk, finishing it off.

"I'll tell you what, Claire—if I ever see an elephant, you'll be the first to know," said Ned with a smile. "But right now, you'd better get back to bed—your milk's all gone."

"Finish yours," insisted Claire, pointing at Ned's glass—he had hardly drunk any of it.

"I will, but I want to stay down here a little longer. But you need to go to bed. You have school tomorrow."

"And you have _work _tomorrow," said Claire, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, but you can't give me orders. I'm your dad." He grinned.

"Grown-ups must only need, like, four hours of sleep," muttered Claire. She put her glass in the dishwasher. "Mommy's going to notice there's an extra glass there, isn't she?"

"Definitely. But I won't tell her it was you."

Claire slowly shuffled her way towards the door, still clutching Milford to her body. "Goodnight, Daddy," she said softly.

Ned stood up and hugged her gently, leaning down a bit to be more at her height. "Goodnight, sweetie," he whispered. "I love you."

Their hug was longer than normal, Ned for some reason not wanting to let go of her. He hadn't come down to the kitchen expecting to talk about elephants, mainly because he had been expecting to be alone. He went there because he _wanted_ to be alone. But Claire had put him more at ease than any amount of glasses of milk and worried thoughts could have.

He pulled away from her, but still held on to her shoulders. "You don't need me to take you to your room, do you?"

"I _know_ where it is," said Claire indignantly.

"Of course you do." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Daddy. I love you too."

Watching her step out of the kitchen, toy elephant still firmly held to her body, Ned again remembered that in a few days, he was going to have even more children, but this time it was a wonderful feeling, a thought that made him supremely happy. More children to talk about imaginary creatures with. More children to share glasses of milk with in the middle of the night. More children to reassure about their own future.

More children to love.


	6. V

A few days later, Ned sprinted like a madwho to work, having had hardly even enough time to eat and spend his usual twelve seconds with each child. He had to get to City Hall early that day, because the debate was going to be a big one—whether or not to pass a law that made playing snooglehorns underwater illegal. It seemed like an absolutely ridiculous debate to Ned—playing snooglehorns underwater was _impossible _in the first place—but one of the first things he learned while watching the city government at work was that Whos seemed to be happiest when thinking about ridiculous things. Anyway, it was shaping up to be, to put it simply, heated. To give every Who a chance to speak his or her mind on the subject, the debates were rescheduled to half an hour earlier.

Ned, of course, was hoping that pushing it ahead would hopefully make it over sooner, because Sally could very well have their babies that day. And as important as the legality of underwater snooglehorn playing might be… the birth of his children ranked quite a bit higher on his list of priorities. If Sally was going to labor that day—which was a high possibility—JZRFV were instructed to call Ned at work so he could be there.

_Rhiannon will probably be the one to call, _Ned thought to himself as he rushed into City Hall—the sooner he got there, the sooner they could start and the sooner it would be finished. _Zaneeta will probably be calling the hospital, Jojo doesn't talk at all so he won't be doing any calling, Virginia will be getting overly excited over the thought of new babies, and Faye will be getting disgusted over the thought of the process of new babies actually being BORN…_

"Thank goodness today's Saturday and the kids are at home," Ned mumbled aloud, pushing open the door into the main room—

—and was immediately swarmed by the entire city council and everyone who worked in city government.

"About _time _you got here, you lazy, inconsiderate pimple!" the chairman spluttered.

"What? I got here _early!" _Ned protested, although still terribly confused.

"That's no way to talk to the mayor, Mr. Chairman," said another Who sternly.

"Yeah!" cried Ned. "That's no way to talk to… wait, what? I'm not the mayor!"

"You are now," snapped the chairman testily. "Your father's dead."

Ned's whole body sagged in shock and disbelief. _"Dead? How?"_

"He stopped breathing, you boob!" snapped the chairman. "Isn't that how everyone dies?"

The city administrator, a much kinder and sensitive Who than the chairman, clarified in a quick yet sympathetic voice, "You know that cold he had for the past couple of days? It developed into Yorgishmeyer disease—"

"But—but colds develop into Yorgishmeyer disease only once in every eight million, four hundred sixty-eight thousand, seven hundred and two cases!" spluttered Ned, still stunned.

"He beat the odds," said the chairman simply, with a rather ill-mannered lack of concern. "Come on, you quivering blob of sentiment, pull yourself together! You can be sad later. But the mayoral initiation can't wait!"

"Have a heart!" cried the city administrator. "He just found out his father died, for goodness sake! Give him at least a few minutes to deal with—"

"A mayor doesn't have _time _to deal with his emotions! He's got more important things to worry about!" snapped the chairman.

With that, the entire city council dragged the still completely shell-shocked Ned out of the room.

…………

Ed had let Ned know that there was an initiation process for becoming the mayor, but whenever Ned had demanded more details, Ed would just chuckle mysteriously and say, "I can't tell you that." Ned had assumed that when the time came for Ed to retire, he'd at least give him a hint of what was to follow, but that hadn't happened… Dead! His father wad dead! If the city council gave him even a moment to breathe perhaps the reality would have sunk in more—or maybe the whole suddenness of the situation alone had left Ned too numb to react.

He hardly even registered the words when he was sworn in as the new mayor of Who-ville. He hardly even paid attention to when he was herded into the barbershop and fed a mozzleberry (which, upon consumption, caused a Who's hair and fur to grow about two feet outward in about five seconds) in order to be cut into a more "mayor-like" appearance. "Unfortunately, in your case, we're going to have to settle for 'boob appearance'," said the chairman disdainfully as the barber trimmed the tuft that would hold the mayoral crest.

And then, after being groomed to become more mayor-like… the initiation ceremony began.

"Are you _sure _all my ancestors had to go through all this just to become mayor?" Ned demanded, although his voice was a little shaky, seeing as it was rather hard to juggle five watermelons in his left hand at the same time. The juggling, of course, was also in addition to hopping up and down in the air on one foot while standing on a rolling chair, with finger puppets on each of his four fingers on his right hand.

"Ah ah ah, don't interrupt your finger puppet limerick show!" said the chairman, who seemed to be enjoying Ned make a fool out of himself a bit too much.

Ned groaned. "But I've been at this for two hours!"

"Your father did it for five! Now give me another limerick!"

_My first official act as mayor will be to get rid of this silly requirement, _thought Ned bitterly. _There's no way I could rest easy knowing that someday I'd have to put Jojo through this. _Still juggling the watermelons, he bobbed his finger puppets up and down and chanted, _"Then Nancy said, 'Sir, if you please—this course puts me quite ill at ease—I find it absurd—no, stupid's the word—to act as though I am diseased!'"_

"He improvises limericks very well," said a council member, genuinely impressed.

Ned sighed. Apparently they hadn't gotten the hint through the limerick that _he _found his current course absurd.

Ms. Yelp, Ed's secretary—no, wait, she was _Ned's _secretary now—poked her head into the door of the mayor's office, where all the insanity was taking place. "Excuse me, city council, but is all of this hullabaloo about through? The mayor's had seven calls already and I have to keep telling everyone to call back later!"

"There are far more important things than phone calls right now," said the chairman haughtily. "Like juggling watermelons."

Ms. Yelp rolled her eyes sarcastically. "Tell that to the public school superintendent, Miss Who-ville, his brother Ted, the city treasurer, the head of the police department, his daughter Rhiannon, and the water utility supervisor."

With a crash and clatter, Ned fell off the rolling chair, the finger puppets flying off his fingers and the watermelons smashing unceremoniously on the ground.

"_Rhiannon? _What did she say?!"

"That your wife's having contractions and on her way to the hospital." She eyed the smashed watermelons. "You gonna need some help cleaning that up?"

"When was this?" cried Ned, rather painfully getting up on his feet. "Just now?"

"No, about an hour ago."

"_WHAT?!" _screamed Ned in horror. "She might have already _had _them by now!" He ran to the door, attempting to kick the watermelons out of his way… but instead slipped on the juices, crashing back on the floor with a rather painful sounding thud.

"Mr. _Mayor," _said the chairman, drawing out Ned's new title as if the very thought of it made him sick, "you now have an entire city to worry about! Now is not the time to run away from your duties just to watch your wife pop out babies! After all, haven't you seen that enough times in your life already? Prioritize, prioritize! Put those finger puppets back on and continue!"

Ned shakily got to his feet, staring at the chairman, then at the finger puppets on the floor, then back at the chairman again, feeling that familiar crumbling of resolve whenever the chairman demanded something of him. Whenever he demanded that he do something ridiculous, just to get a cheap thrill out of watching him scamper around like a puppy… and Ned had trouble saying no.

He picked up the finger puppets.

"I _am _prioritizing," he said softly.

And then, with one quick motion, he hurled them at the chairman and turned for the door.

"This is preposterous!" cried the chairman. "You're the mayor! You can't ignore your duties!"

"Yeah, I'm the mayor," said Ned, running out the door, "which means I outvote you!"

The room was quiet for a moment.

Suddenly, Ned stuck his head back through the door. _"LOSER!" _he shouted triumphantly. And then he was gone again.

…………

"I SWEAR I AM GOING TO KILL HIM!"

"Calm down, Mom, and don't rip the bed sheets apart!" cried Rhiannon, visibly frightened by her mother's usual transformation into a rage machine right before giving birth. She and her birth siblings had accompanied Sally to the hospital, leaving their sister Tonya in charge of the rest of the girls—probably a bad idea, Rhiannon reflected, for although Tonya had the same leadership qualities in her that Zaneeta had, she also had a penchant for practical jokes. They might come home to find the house completely booby-trapped, set up by the rest of the girls due to Tonya's urging.

Jojo, Zaneeta, Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia had assumed that they'd leave the hospital and restore order back home when their father arrived… but they had called an hour ago and had yet to even hear back from him.

"You know that today was going to be busy for him," said Zaneeta quickly, trying to calm her homicidal mother down. "He probably hasn't had a chance to even leave that meeting yet! It's not his fault—"

"It's his fault I got knocked up for the _fourteenth time _in the first place!" snapped Sally. "If he hadn't—"

"Whoooooooooooa, Mom, hold it right there!" interrupted Faye quickly. "We're your kids! We're only twelve! We don't need to know the details! Trust me," she added, making a face of disgust.

"You kids had better get down to the foot of the bed," said the doctor, sounding as calm as the circumstance would allow. "Your mother's due to pop any second and someone has to catch the babies."

"No, no, no, I refuse!" cried Faye emphatically. "I refuse to hold a slimy, disgusting baby covered with womb juices! No, no, no!"

Virginia grabbed Faye by the arm and pulled her to the foot of the bed. "It won't be that disgusting, Faye, you're overreacting! You won't even notice the gross stuff when you hold them for the first time. They're your _siblings!"_

"I don't care, it'll still be totally gross! I won't do it!" protested Faye, but Zaneeta grabbed her other arm and held it in place. Faye shuddered, completely terrified. "Oohhh, Mom, don't make me do this! This is going to be so _grossssssss!"_

Jojo and Rhiannon looked at each other and smirked before desperately trying to hide their chuckles.

"It's not funny!" shrieked Faye. "It's gross and disgusting and this is supposed to be the dad's job! Not the sister's!"

The main door opened suddenly, and a nurse ran in. "Ms. O'Malley, the mayor's here—"

"I don't want to see the mayor, I want to see _my husband!" _cried Sally.

"But that's—"

A second later, Ned tore into the room, bits of watermelon still clinging to his feet.

"Dad!" cried the girls happily. Even Jojo looked relieved to see him.

"_Where were you?!" _Sally demanded.

"There was, um, a situation… Dad died," Ned blurt out, not having had any time to theorize how he would break the news to his family more delicately.

The kids glanced at each other, stunned, their smiles gone. The news even pacified Sally for a few moments. "Oh," she said numbly, "so that's why you…"

Zaneeta drew in her breath in wonder. _"The mayoral crest," _she breathed, pointing to her father's new adornment.

"There's this whole completely ridiculous initiation ceremony that the council claims I have to go through—sorry about tracking watermelon through the hospital," Ned quickly added to the doctor. "Trust me, hon, I came here as soon as I found out. I'd much rather be here than hoping up and down on one leg and doing a finger puppet show!"

"Oh, Ned, I'm sorry for…" Sally suddenly winced, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out in great pain. "They're coming!" she managed to choke out.

Ned scrambled to the foot of the bed, got himself into a catching position, and no sooner had he situated himself when the first baby popped out. He caught it expertly and quickly handed it to Faye, who was closest to him. "Take it!"

"Ew ew ew ew _eeeeeeeeeeeewwwww!" _shrieked Faye in total disgust, holding her newborn sibling—child number ninety—out in front of her like a dirty rag. "Take it!" she shrieked to the nurses, who quickly obliged.

The second child flew out, and Virginia gently nudged Faye out of the way. "You'd better let me handle this, Dad," she said. Ned handed her the child, and giving a coo of excitement, Virginia passed the baby along to another nurse, who followed the first nurse with the first child into the room where the health checks were done.

"This is kinda exciting, isn't it?" Zaneeta said quietly to Jojo and Rhiannon. "We're actually here to see the births of our new siblings."

"It's… seeing a side of Mom that I didn't want to see," Jojo said awkwardly.

"_You _don't want to see it, think about me," shuddered Rhiannon. "This has totally turned me off the idea of ever having kids. Ever." As they spoke, nurses three and four, holding babies three and four, filed by them on their way to the health checks.

"What are you talking about?" breathed Virginia in awe, as her father handed her baby number five. "Isn't this amazing, seeing new life for the first time?"

"Amazingly repulsive," muttered Faye, stiffly flaring out her hands at her sides. "Hey, where's the nearest sink?" she asked a nurse, who had to run to get behind the fifth nurse, for the sixth child had shot out of its mother almost immediately following the fifth.

"Is that it?" Ned asked, craning his head to look at Sally.

"I don't think—"

POP!

The seventh baby flew out, and Ned, who was unprepared for it, just barely caught it. Virginia quickly grabbed him and steadied him as he regained his balance.

"You know, Virginia," said Ned with a smile, handing the baby to her, "when you were born you almost knocked me off my feet too… but it was my dad who caught me…"

Virginia smiled sadly. "Oh Dad, I'm so sorry…"

That single comparison seemed to be the final driving force of realization for Ned—that his father really was gone, gone for good, so unexpectedly and without warning—and he choked out a sob as tears quickly blinded his vision. But he still heard the pop of the eighth child, and still managed to catch it, as Virginia hugged him in sympathy.

"That's all of them," gasped Sally.

And finally, without warning, Ned let himself sob uncontrollably—sobbing for heartbreak for the death of his father, sobbing with the overwhelming stress of suddenly having the mayoral duties thrust upon him, sobbing for joy at the birth of new children. Virginia cried too, and so did the baby—although not from any heartbreak or despair.

"I'll take the young'un, if you don't mind," said an eighth nurse, holding out her arms expectantly.

Virginia gently lifted the baby out of her father's arms and handed it to the nurse, who in a flash went through the back door.

"I'm sorry," Ned apologized quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry for carrying on like this…"

"It's okay, Dad," said Faye, uneasily placing a now-cleaned hand on her father's shoulder. "You're under a lot of stress. It's understandable."

Zaneeta and Rhiannon scurried down and joined Virginia in hugging their father. Jojo, who like Faye was uncomfortable with most physical contact, still followed his sisters and placed his hand on Ned's other shoulder.

"Thanks, kids," he whispered gratefully.

"I'd be giving you my support too, if I could move," Sally said weakly from her bed.

Ned laughed shakily. "What am I carrying on for?" he asked, standing up and moving to his wife's bedside, his five oldest children following. "I'm not the one who just pushed out kids!"

Sally's lips tugged upwards into a half smile. "Hey, I'm a pro at this now, it was no big deal."

"_That _was no big deal?" Faye cried incredulously.

"How many were there?" Sally asked as Ned brushed her sweat-soaked hair from her face. "I lost count."

"There were…" Ned faltered.

"Eight, I think," Zaneeta piped in.

"Yeah, eight. I counted," said Rhiannon.

Sally sighed, although she still kept her half smile. "I was kind of hoping I'd have eleven…"

"Eleven? Are you nuts?" cried Faye.

"Well, if there were eleven, that would mean our number of kids would be at one hundred even… triple digits, I thought that would be interesting…"

Rhiannon laughed. "Come on, Mom, ninety-seven, one hundred, I don't think it makes that much difference with numbers like that!"

"Whoa," Ned said in shock, leaning against the bedpost for support. "My father's dead, I'm mayor, and I have ninety-seven kids. This is all happening way too fast…"

The door to the back room opened. "They're all boys!" cried the nurse excitedly.

"Really?" all seven asked, shocked.

The nurse laughed. "No, just wanted to see what your reaction was. They're all girls."

Jojo groaned, making an "aw, nuts" swinging motion with his arm.

Ned chuckled. "Sorry, son, you're still outnumbered."

"Even if they were all boys, you'd still be outnumbered anyway," giggled Virginia.

The rest of the nurses filed out of the room, each carrying a baby, each baby wearing a hospital bracelet with a number on it from one to eight, signifying their birth order. "Time to name the little darlings!" said one nurse, handing two babies to Sally. "Those birth certificates don't fill themselves out!"

The other nurses distributed the other babies to Ned, Jojo, Zaneeta, Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia. The kids were surprised by this, Faye most of all. "Ew, no, I don't want to hold it! It's disgusting!" she squirmed, holding her new baby sister out in front of her with a look of mild repulsion.

"First of all, Faye, she's not an 'it', she's a _she," _Virginia admonished Faye. "And secondly, what do you think the nurses were doing in the back room? The babies are all cleaned off now! And they're _adorable," _she cooed, cuddling the baby handed to her sweetly.

"Well, who's got number one?" Sally asked, looking at the bracelets on the two babies she was holding. "I've got five and eight here."

"Here's number one," said Ned, holding up his baby. "And I know exactly what I want to name her. I want to name her after my father."

The five older kids all snorted in disbelief.

"What?" Ned protested.

"Dad, I don't want a sister named Ed!" cried Rhiannon.

"Come on, I think it would be fitting that one of them was named after him, seeing as they were born the day he… died." He looked at Sally in desperation. "Back me up here!"

"It would be a reasonable request," said Sally, bemused, "but really… you want to name our _daughter _after your _father?"_

Ned shrugged. "Why not? We named our son after my mother!"

Faye smirked. "That's right, _Joanna!"_

Jojo, despite holding a baby, lunged for Faye. "My name's _Jojo!" _he growled dangerously.

Virginia and Zaneeta both grabbed Jojo by the arms before he could get any closer to his germaphobic sister. Ned hardly seemed to notice. "We can call her Edna," he said gently, gazing at the baby. "After Dad."

"Edna O'Malley it is," said the doctor, scribbling down the name on the birth certificate.

"Who's got number two?" Sally asked.

"I do… uh, I think," said Faye, awkwardly tugging at the bracelet on the baby she was holding. "Yeah. I do."

Sally smiled. "What do you want to name her?"

Faye blinked in confusion. "Who, _me?"_

"You kids were here when they were born, and were a big help, so it's only fair that you should be able to help name them too," said Sally. "Right, Ned?"

Ned smiled too. "Sounds reasonable to me. What's the name going to be, Faye?"

Faye stammered, having been unexpectedly put on the spot. "Uh, well… I like the name Michelle—"

"We already _have _a sister named Michelle!" Virginia and Zaneeta cried in unison.

"Oh! Well, ex-_cuuuuuuuse _me!" snapped Faye, rolling her eyes. "Like I can be expected to remember all their names… How about Cassie? We don't have a Cassie yet, do we? I like that name too."

"We have a Cassie now," said Ned, smiling at Faye. "Put that down on the birth certificate for number two, doctor!"

"I have number three," said Rhiannon, "and I want to name her Eve. That's always been my favorite name."

"That's a very pretty name!" said Sally. "Why didn't we think of it before, Ned?"

"I don't know, but it's a good thing Rhiannon's here to make up for our lack." He looked at Jojo, Zaneeta, and Virginia. "Who has number four?"

Silently, slowly, Jojo turned the bracelet on the wrist of the baby he held, revealing the 4 written on it.

"It's all you, Jojo," said Ned softly.

Jojo looked down at his sister—_one_ of his sisters, as if he needed any more—feeling… nothing. What should he feel? This was just one new hassle to put up with at home—a crying, whiny little snotball just like the majority of all his sisters. Like Faye, Jojo couldn't remember half of their names, and didn't really care to either… they were all alike to him. Loud, whiny, stupid brats. And now he was expected to give one of those brats a _name? _Well, "Brat" seemed appropriate as anything else!

But he didn't say any of that aloud. He _couldn't. _Since he was the oldest, his parents expected him to feel some sort of protectiveness over his sisters… another impossible expectation that they held of him, and he couldn't let them know the truth. He couldn't let them down. He knew that if he ever knowingly disappointed his parents, it would crush them—and it would crush _him _too.

The baby looked up at Jojo, with large, innocent eyes, and cocked her head in confusion at this strange face. An unguarded smile slipped past Jojo's lips. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. He touched her tiny hand, setting his other hand down on her chest. _Thu-thump, thu-thump. _Her heartbeat. He placed his hand on his own chest, feeling the same _thu-thump, thu-thump._

"Heart," he murmured softly. "…Her name's Heart."

"Heart?" Sally repeated.

"That's different…" Ned smiled. "I like it." Well, yes, he liked it, but he was also just glad to hear Jojo actually speak, and it seemed the best way to encourage it was to approve of what little he did say.

"Heart it is," said Sally, smiling as well. "Now, I have number five, and I was thinking I like the way Brianna sounds."

"Don't we already have a Brianna?" Faye asked.

"No, you're thinking of Bianca," said Ned.

"Oh… whatever," sighed Faye.

"It sounds too similar to my name, though," Rhiannon complained. "It'll be too confusing!"

"Oh, come on, Brianna is a nice name!" Zaneeta said. "And Holly and Polly have the same problem you will, and so do Zoe and Chloe."

"Why do so many girl names have to sound alike?" Rhiannon sighed.

"Number six is mine!" squealed Virginia. "And I want to name her—well, wait, never mind, I want to save that name for my own daughter someday."

"Aw, don't let that stop you," said Ned. "You can just name your own girl after her aunt. What's the name?"

"Candace," said Virginia. "I think it's just _sooooo cuuuuute!"_

"A cute name for a cute baby," said Zaneeta, "but we need to think about how their names will sound on them as adults! I've always liked the name Vanessa," she said, holding up baby number seven.

The doctor was scribbling furiously on the birth certificates. "So let me make sure I've got this—so far we have Edna, Cassie, Eve, Heart, Brianna, Candace, Vanessa, and… just one left!"

"Just one left," said Sally, with a singe of relief, touching the cheek of baby number eight.

Faye snorted. "She's got a huge head."

"All babies have big heads," said Zaneeta.

"But hers is even bigger than normal. Look at it!"

Rhiannon giggled. "Maybe we should make her life terrible by giving her a name like 'Bighead'. She'd be laughed at her whole life!"

"And you think that would be _funny?" _Virginia demanded.

"She'd work her way around it, though," said Zaneeta. "She'd insist that everyone call her 'Heddie' or something not so bad. People can only make fun of you with your own consent!"

"Hmm, Heddie," said Sally thoughtfully. "I like that. It's different, and cute."

"Whoa, wait, you're actually using the name I came up with?" cried Rhiannon incredulously. "I was only joking!"

"They're not calling her 'Bighead', you idiot," said Faye, "they're calling her 'Heddie'!"

"But it's still a silly name," protested Rhiannon.

"Come on, we've had to come up with ninety-seven names!" said Sally, with a good-natured laugh. "I think we've got a little leeway to have one or two ridiculous names."

"Like 'Jojo'," Jojo muttered under his breath.

"I hope this was worth getting pulled out of your mayoral initiation ceremony for, Dad," said Virginia with a playful grin.

"You have no idea," whispered Ned gratefully, feeling his throat constrict again with tears—but he knew that this time, they were tears of happiness.


	7. VI

The next few weeks, Ned was so busy juggling his newly-acquired mayoral duties and making room for quality time with eight more children that he had completely forgotten both about 'Bring Your Child to Work Day' _and _the operation Sally wanted. Understandably, when he found out that both were scheduled on the same day, he had a mild panic attack, which led to the huge portraits of the city council that hung in his office being knocked off the wall and pinning him to the floor. Luckily Ms. Yelp was there to help pull them off of him. And then, his throat having gone dry with worry, he attempted to take a drink—out of Thidwick's bowl. Thidwick, of course, was the fish that his children had bought him both as a sympathy gift after Ed's death and a gift of congratulations at becoming the new mayor.

He was still a bundle of nerves the night before "the big day" as he sat down to supper, and Sally noticed.

"You're shaking like a leaf," she teased. "Do you need me to turn up the thermostat in here or what?"

"It's not that," he hissed under his breath, "it's just I have a busy day tomorrow that won't be made much better with Jojo tagging along underfoot and me worrying over whether or not you've exploded—"

"Shh," Sally hissed back, "the kids will hear you! And you're only going to bring Jojo with you tomorrow?"

"Well, who else would I bring with me? No one else would want to come!"

"You don't know that for sure. You should ask them if any of them want to tag along, just so they don't feel left out."

"I suppose you're right."

"As usual." Sally gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then cleared her throat. _"EVERYONE QUIET!" _she hollered in her most authoritative mother voice.

The effect was instant, as ninety-seven mouths shut and ninety-seven pairs of eyes looked attentively at their mother. Even the month-old babies had learned to pay rapt attention when their mother adopted that tone.

"Go ahead, Ned," said Sally with a smile.

"Have I ever told you how impressive that is?" Ned asked her, before standing up and addressing the kids. "Anyway, kids, tomorrow is 'Bring Your Child to Work Day', and I'd love to have anyone who wants to come with me! Does anyone want to come to work with me tomorrow?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I would," Zaneeta said cheerfully, not in a "since no one else is willing, I guess I will" tone, but in a genuine "yeah, that sounds like fun!" tone.

"Great, Zaneeta!" He looked at the rest of the kids. "Anyone else?"

There was a longer silence.

"Dad, tomorrow's _Saturday," _protested Jenny. "We have other plans!"

"Not that we don't like spending time with you—" Hanna quickly added.

"—but it just sounds so _boring!" _Amy whined.

A wave of voices grew in agreement.

"Completely reasonable!" Ned said, having to raise his voice to be heard over the girls. "That's why I asked! Looks like it'll just be Zaneeta and Jojo who go with me tomorrow then. Alright, that's all I wanted to say! You can go back to eating now."

As the girls all happily followed his order, Ned began to wolf down his food too, completely oblivious to Jojo, sitting at the far other end of the table, who was staring at his father in complete and utter disbelief.

Zaneeta was not oblivious, however. While still managing to help Linda (seated at her left side) and Julie (seated at her right side) eat their meals, she kept an eye on her brother, noting with concern how little of his food he ate before finally pushing himself away from the table and leaving the room in a huff. No one but Zaneeta even noticed.

Handing her young sisters their utensils, and hoping they would miraculously obtain more mature motor coordination skills in an instant, she excused herself from the table and made her way into the hallway. Jojo's bedroom door was already shut.

Zaneeta knocked on the door. "Jojo, are you in there? It's me, Zaneeta."

A second later, Jojo swung open the door, shaking with anger.

"He—didn't—even—_ask me," _he said, with great difficulty.

"Don't get upset, Jojo," she said gently, "I'm sure he just—"

"He just gives _you _and all our sisters a _choice!" _cried Jojo. "When you're the only one who says you'll go, that means you're the only one who wants to go! He knew when all our sisters didn't say anything, that meant they didn't want to go! But he seems to think when _I _don't say anything, it means 'yes'!"

"That's not it at all," said Zaneeta. "He wants you to come because it'll be good for you, more than it would be for the rest of us. You're the one who's going to be mayor someday! It's just assumed that you'll be coming!"

"_I_ didn't assume that," muttered Jojo, his voice breaking.

Zaneeta, seeing that her brother was about to cry, tried to put her arms around him in a hug, but Jojo pushed her away. "I'm not in the mood, Zaneeta," he mumbled sullenly, trying to sniff back his tears. "Why didn't he _ask _me?"

Zaneeta bit her lip before answering. "Because… because you never talk to him, Jojo. What would have been the point?"

Jojo didn't answer her, too busy fighting a losing battle against his tears. Zaneeta sighed sadly.

"Jojo, you're my birth sibling and I don't like to see you cry. Can I please hug you? I'm trying to make you feel better."

"Fine," he mumbled in resignation, wiping away tears. Zaneeta wrapped her arms around him in a protective, big-sisterly way, despite the fact she was actually younger than him by three seconds.

"If you don't want to go, then tell him," she said logically.

Jojo pulled away from her. "I _couldn't!" _he said helplessly. "He'd be upset at me!"

"No he wouldn't!"

Jojo took a deep breath. "He'd be disappointed in me."

Zaneeta opened her mouth to argue, but then realized she couldn't without lying.

"_That's _why I never talk to him," said Jojo softly. "He has this whole idea of who he wants me to be, but I can't be that person. It's not who I am. I'm afraid if he knows the real me, he'll realize that and be disappointed. So I let him believe I'm someone else. If I don't say anything he can imagine the real me to be however he wants me to be."

"That's ridiculous," said Zaneeta. "He _wants _to know the real you. Can't you see how happy he is every time he hears you talk, even if you aren't actually talking _to_ him? He loves you."

"No he doesn't," muttered Jojo. "Because he doesn't know the real me."

"Well then, let him see 'the real you'!"

"But that's not what he _wants _to see. And I… I just want him to be happy," Jojo finished sadly.

"Dad would be disappointed if he knew you were basically lying to him," said Zaneeta firmly.

Jojo stiffened in defense. "I'm not lying!"

"But you're letting him believe something that you say isn't true. Oh, and by the way, I think you're wrong. Dad knows who you are and loves you for it. He just wants you to be something _more. _He thinks you can be. He _knows _you can be. And so do I."

Jojo rolled his eyes. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm saying it because it's true!" Zaneeta protested. "Look, you're going to have fun tomorrow. We'll get to see how the city government works! Not many kids get that chance! It'll be really interesting!"

"For you, maybe," said Jojo cynically. "You like that kind of stuff. I don't."

"You don't know much about it," said Zaneeta. "Maybe the more you find out about it, the more you'll like it!"

Jojo said nothing to this, but still looked at Zaneeta with an unbelieving cynicism.

"If nothing else, it'll be nice to spend time with Dad," Zaneeta said. "Just the three of us, away from the craziness of home."

Jojo finally gave a small smile. "That's the first thing you've said that's actually cheered me up."

"Thank goodness," laughed Zaneeta. "I was beginning to worry that I'd lost my touch."

…………

The next morning, at the normal city meeting that kicked off each day, there was a definite energy in the room… brought along mainly by the thirty or forty kids who had come to work with their parents that day, all sitting in the back of the room and chatting to each other. They were all different ages and all different appearances, but they all had one thing in common—they had a parent who worked for the city government. Zaneeta and Jojo had quickly found two boys, Floyd and Lloyd, who were the same age and in the same class as Karen, Marlene, Tonya, Alison, Logan, Karley, and Nicole. Ned was happy to see that they found some Whos to talk to—at least the kids wouldn't be totally alone and not know anyone during the morning meeting.

"And the mayor has good news, I trust?" the chairman was saying, as he usually did.

"Of course!" said Ned. "As we all know by now, unless you missed the fact that there's a bunch of kids in the back, today's 'Bring Your Child to Work Day', and while I obviously can't comment on the success of it yet, since it only just started, it's great to have so many young faces here learning about the government!"

The adults in the room all applauded in agreement.

"And I move that we adjourn this meeting early so that the kids can look around, and maybe talk to us so we can answer any questions they have!" said Ned, not trying to hide the hopeful look in his eyes. Zaneeta chuckled to herself. _Somebody _obviously wasn't too fond of long meetings.

The chairman looked at the rest of the council, who were all nodding in agreement. He sighed testily. "Seeing as I am outnumbered in my dissent, meeting adjourned."

"Maybe we should try saying something like that at school!" Lloyd laughed.

"Yeah, your dad's great at getting out of stuff!" Floyd agreed.

"Ah, so my ability to talk my way out of trouble is hereditary!" smiled Zaneeta in satisfaction.

Jojo nudged Zaneeta in the ribs. "Uh oh, look who's coming…"

The chairman strolled up to them, smirking rather condescendingly. "Ah, yes, how grateful we are for the children here who, instead of having fun on a Saturday, were dragged here under protest by their disillusioned parents."

Jojo made a sharp noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a choke. Luckily, since all the other adults were also talking to the children, it was hardly heard.

"Actually," said Zaneeta, very politely, "I wanted to come. I find government fascinating."

"Rare for a child of your age, and quite possibly psychotic," said the chairman. "What's your name?"

Zaneeta blinked, not sure what to make of his comment. "Uh, I'm Zaneeta O'Malley, and this is my brother, Jojo McDodd."

"_Oh, _so you're the mayor's children! That explains everything," said the chairman, sounding smugly satisfied. "Or, I guess I should actually say you're a very _small fraction_ of the mayor's children. Apparently, he can only handle two at a time. Small wonder why he's having trouble handling an entire city."

Zaneeta still kept her (now false) smile plastered on her face, trying to deal with her anger at being patronized. "You know, Mr. Chairman," she said cheerfully, "when I first came in here, I looked at you and thought, 'Wow, someday I'd like to sit in his chair! To be able to look down at the dealings of the city government!' But now I'm thinking it's not the job for me. Apparently sitting in that seat makes one arrogant, pompous, and rude." She paused for a brief moment as the chairman glared contemptuously at her, then added with a shrug, "You seem to do such a fine job at it yourself anyway. I don't know if I could get to the big-headed level that you are! I guess it just takes a special kind of Who."

The chairman, still glaring, said in a stiffly formal voice, "I would be offended, little girl, but seeing as I know your father, I know it's just in your genes to blurt out moronic things without thinking. Thinking comes hard for your family, doesn't it? My condolences."

Zaneeta didn't miss a beat. "And my condolences to you for being a self-centered prick."

The chairman shook with rage, raising his hand as if to strike Zaneeta. Jojo quickly grabbed Zaneeta by the arm and jerked her away. The chairman hadn't actually made the striking motion, but still stood there livid, his arm still up in the air.

Zaneeta raised her arm up in the air too, as if in a motion of farewell. "Goodbye, Mr. Chairman! I hope you have a splendid day! Splendidly _rotten," _she added under her breath, but loud enough for the chairman to hear her.

Ned, who had been speaking to Floyd and Lloyd and hadn't heard any of the previous conversation, turned around to see the chairman still shaking with rage, his arm frozen in the air. "Oh, Mr. Chairman," he said, confused and yet wary, sensing a possible threat to his children, "I see you've met my two oldest—"

"_Yes," _growled the chairman, "I have, and they are certainly endowed with your charm!" He finally lowered his arm, glared once more at Zaneeta (Jojo still protectively holding her back), and walked away.

"See, Jojo?" said Zaneeta cheerfully. "Nothing to worry about. He thinks I'm charming."

Ned sighed. "Zaneeta, I don't know what you said to him, but please…" _Please say it again. _"He's an important Who. You need to treat him with respect." _Even though he doesn't deserve any._

"I did treat him with respect, Dad," said Zaneeta. "But he didn't return the favor. And don't you and Mom always say 'treat others the way you want to be treated'? Judging by the way he was treating me, he obviously wanted to be treated as if he was a moron, so I granted his wish! It wasn't difficult to do, either."

Jojo stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep himself from laughing.

Ned, too, was desperately trying to hide his approving smile. "Well, maybe, but this is the city government. Even the slightest thing you say to someone can have drastic negative effects. Since I'm in charge of you, whatever _you _do reflects on _me."_

"I know," said Zaneeta, her face falling, "and I'm sorry."

"Well…" Ned finally let himself smile broadly. "It'll be okay, just this once."

Zaneeta smiled again as well. "He had it coming, Dad. Consider it a favor to him. If I hadn't told him off, someone bigger might have. Who would you rather get mad at you—a twelve-year-old girl, or a two hundred fifty pound linebacker?"

"That depends," said Ned with a wink. "If you're the twelve-year-old girl in question, I'd almost rather the linebacker. Your wit can be sharper than a punch in the gut!"

"Aw, yeah right, I'm not that witty," said Zaneeta with a blush and dismissive wave of her hands. She looked around the room, seeing most of the Whos filing out. "So, what's next? Where are they all going?"

"To work, of course," said Ned. "To their various offices and buildings and cubicles. And it's time you kids saw my office! Your future domain, Jojo!"

Jojo said nothing to that, simply staring at his father with a deer-in-the-headlights look.

Ned put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It sounds like a huge undertaking, I know, but it gets easier… I assume," he added doubtfully.

"Put that in the 'Amazing Pep Talks of History' book," giggled Zaneeta.

…………

Ned took his kids on a tour of City Hall and showed them all of the offices and various meeting rooms, but both Jojo and Zaneeta hardly failed to notice how distracted and flustered he seemed… well, their dad was often distracted and flustered, but never quite like _this_.

"…and that's the door to the bathroom. You turn the knob to go in, and inside there are three toilets and a urinal—"

"Dad, we _are _potty trained, you know!" Zaneeta interrupted.

Ned blinked. "Oh. Right. Uh, listen, did I show you my office yet?"

"Only seven times." Zaneeta gave her father a questioning look. "What's bothering you, Dad? It's only 'Bring Your Child to Work Day'—it's not like Jojo and I are grading you on your performance or anything."

"It's not that," said Ned quickly, "it's just I'm worried about your mother's—doctor's appointment." He quickly made his way back to his office door, making a motion with his arm for his children to follow him.

"Oh, that's all?" said Zaneeta. "It's only a check-up. I'm sure they're not going to find anything wrong with Mom at all! I mean, she's got to be healthy—how else could she push out ninety-seven kids?"

Ned jerked, tripped on the carpet, and would have fallen into his office if the door had been opened—but it wasn't. Instead, he smacked his face right into the door. Jojo and Zaneeta winced.

"Jeez, Dad, really, it's alright," said Zaneeta with concern.

"Yeah… yeah… it's alright," muttered Ned, climbing back up to his feet and opening the door. He and Sally hadn't told any of their children, not even JZRFV, what her "doctor's appointment" really was. No sense in getting them all worried, right? "Listen, kids, I need to review some ordinances, so if you could just go over here and play, or hang out, or whatever it is you do…" He literally herded them into his office, not even really looking where he was pushing them.

"Whoa, Dad, there's a wall here!" Zaneeta shrieked.

"Whoops, sorry!" Ned changed direction just in time and led them straight to his desk. "Now, you two just sit here and—"

"Dad, this is _your _desk," said Zaneeta. "Don't you have to do your work here?"

"What? No, no—I can go out on the balcony—the fresh air helps me think better." Without looking, he scooped up an armful of papers and objects off of the desk—including Thidwick's bowl—and fretfully half-ran, half-stumbled out onto the balcony.

For once, even Zaneeta was speechless. She and Jojo stared dumbly at their father's eccentric performance before turning to look at each other, their jaws still hanging open.

"That was… weird," Jojo finally managed to say quietly.

"Even for Dad," Zaneeta whispered in agreement. "There's something funny going on, something that he's not telling us about. And we need to know what it is!"

Jojo snorted. "Like he's going to tell us."

"If we look him in the eyes and _make _him tell us the truth, he'll do it."

"But maybe it would be better for him if he didn't. I mean…" Jojo looked back at their father, who was dumping fish food on the documents and trying to read Thidwick. "Whatever's got him so weird, he obviously doesn't want to talk about it."

"That's silly," said Zaneeta. "If a Who has problems, the only way he can get through them is by talking them out."

"No it isn't," said Jojo.

"Yes it is, idiot."

"Some Whos don't like to talk about things."

"They're crazy."

"Thanks a lot," muttered Jojo sarcastically.

"What do you mean, 'thanks a lot'?"

"You said Whos who don't like to talk are crazy—and I don't like to talk, so you just called me crazy!"

"If you don't like to talk, then why are you talking to me right now, hmmmmm?"

"Because you won't shut up."

Zaneeta giggled softly—the two of them had, of course, been speaking in whispers this entire time. "You think this is not shutting up for me? Come on, you're my birth sibling, you should know me better than that!"

Jojo giggled as well. "You'd be talking to yourself if I wasn't here—and answering yourself, too."

Meanwhile, Ned, still sitting out on the balcony, had given up on attempting to read Thidwick's gills (he still hadn't realized that Thidwick was not, in fact, the ordinances). Instead he was curled up discreetly by the archway, taking soothing refuge in hearing the hushed twittering and laughter of his son and daughter. Sure, so they were probably laughing at him—but so what? He was used to being the butt of jokes—and in this case, it was definitely worth it. For a few glorious moments, his nerves were calmed and his entire soul felt light with happiness, brought on simply by the giggles of two twelve-year-olds.

But even their happiness couldn't completely erase his worry from his mind. _How on earth can you smile when your wife may very possibly be heading for her DEATH?!_

Ned shuddered. Darn his brain, it always had a way of ruining his mood.

_But that good mood NEEDED to be ruined! How can you smile when your whole world might come crashing down on you? How can you just SIT THERE and read government documents when your wife needs you most?!_

"What am I _doing _here?!" Ned blurted out in shock. Jojo and Zaneeta snapped their heads to look at him in surprise.

And without warning, Ned carefully but quickly hopped over the railing, holding onto the drainpipe, and began to shimmy his way down.

"Dad, what are you _doing?!" _Zaneeta shrieked, both she and Jojo practically leaping out of the desk chair and sprinting onto the balcony. "You're like a hundred feet off the ground! Are you _nuts?"_

"Jojo! Zaneeta! I've made an executive decision," said Ned, still carefully working his way down the side of the building. "I need to be with your mother right now, not sitting at my desk—or on the balcony—reading ordinances."

"She's not _really _having a doctor's appointment, is she?" Zaneeta asked cynically. "What's going on?"

"No, she's having a doctor's appointment, alright! We didn't lie to you—we just didn't tell you what _type _of appointment. She's having an—" Ned gulped in fear—"operation."

"_WHAT?!" _shrieked Zaneeta. Jojo's mouth dropped in shock as well. "But those are dangerous!"

"I know! You think I haven't tried to tell your mother that?" Ned had to raise his voice, widening the gap between him and his two oldest children, shimmying further and further towards the ground. "That's why I have to be with her right now!"

"But—but what about the… mayor stuff?" Zaneeta demanded.

"You two are in charge!"

"Be serious!"

"I am! Consider it a mayoral executive decree! You two are in charge until I get back!"

"We're only _twelve!"_

"But added together, you're twenty-four! I trust both of you!" Ned had now reached the ground—he hopped off the drainpipe and took off running. "Good luck!" he cried, spinning his head around to address them, then continued sprinting away.

Jojo and Zaneeta, both completely stupefied, stared at each other, their mouths twitching in an attempt to say something, anything.

Predictably, it was Zaneeta who got her words out first. "We're… _in charge."_

A broad, almost scheming smile had accompanied those words, and Jojo felt a pang of dread freeze his limbs. "Don't get any ideas, Zaneeta… and stop smiling like that!"

"We're in charge of the _entire city!"_

"You're freaking me out!"

Zaneeta paid him no heed, running to the edge of the balcony and scanning with excitement her new realm. "Look at it, Jojo! Look at all the buildings and Whos and plants and everything—and we're in charge of it _all! _Look at it!"

Jojo pointed towards their father, making off like a banshee. "Look at Dad going the opposite direction of the hospital."

"Yeah! Look at Dad—wait, what?" Zaneeta peered down at her father, who was indeed running in exactly the opposite direction of where he should have been heading. "You're right! Where is he going?"

"Maybe he _did _lie to us," muttered Jojo cynically.

Zaneeta snorted. "Yeah right, why would he make up a story about Mom having an operation? He's probably stopping home first to pick up some stuff, or see our sisters, or something."

A corner of Jojo's lips tugged upwards slightly in the very faint beginnings of a smile. "Or maybe he's just so anxious that he forgot what way the hospital is."

…………

Jojo's guess was reasonable, of course, considering who he was talking about. But Ned in fact wasn't heading for the hospital right away, or even home. He was instead sprinting towards Who U., to find the one Who who had been the cause of this madness in the first place. Of course, seeing as it was a Saturday, there would probably be no professors at the university at all… but luckily, Dr. Larue, so wrapped up in her research that she probably wasn't even aware of the time of day half the time, was an exception.

Ned swung open the door to her lab dramatically. "Dr. Larue, this is all your fault!" he shrieked.

Dr. Larue shrieked too, but her shriek was from surprise, causing her to drop the beaker of chemicals that she had been carefully pouring into a concoction. _"Mr. Mayor, look what you've—"_

_**BOOM!**_

The explosion prevented her from admonishing him any further.

It also, predictably, caused the lab table to fly off in about thirty-five pieces, pinning a now blackened Ned to one wall and a now blackened Dr. Larue to another. More taken aback than hurt, Ned pushed the bit of the table off of him, crying anxiously, "Dr. Larue, are you alright?"

She too pushed the bit of table off of her, glaring at him, smoke rising from her body that seemed to stem from more than just the recent explosion. "You've ruined my experiment and caused untold dollars in damage—do you _think _I'm alright?!"

Ned breathed a sigh of relief. "You're alive, that's all I was asking—"

"You're going to _wish _I was dead!" she shrieked, lunging herself at him, teeth bared. "My research is ruined and it's _all your fault!"_

"No, it's all _your _fault!" Ned said forcefully, although still fearfully dodging her attempts to strangle him. "That's what I came here for! My wife is going to have that operation and she wouldn't have wanted it if you hadn't written that article and put the idea in her head in the first place!"

"It's perfectly safe, Mr. Mayor!" cried Dr. Larue, exasperated. "In fact, right now, you're in more danger than she is!"

"What do you mean—WHOA!" Ned ducked just in time to avoid being struck by a beaker, flung by a still enraged Dr. Larue. The beaker shattered against the wall. "You know, it wouldn't look good on your credibility if you tried to kill me—I'm the mayor!"

Dr. Larue took a few deep breaths, slowly calming herself down to a state of mere frustration. "So what exactly do you want me to do about it? You obviously want _something _from me, judging by your quite unexpected and sudden entrance! Do you want me to prepare false evidence that completely nullifies my claims and destroys my academic standing as a researcher just so your wife doesn't risk what is actually a perfectly safe operation?"

Ned shook his head quickly. "No, no, I just want—I just want you to be there during the operation to make sure nothing goes wrong!"

Dr. Larue sighed in exasperation. "Mr. Mayor, I assure you that the doctors know what they're doing—"

"But it's _your _research!" Ned protested. "Please, Dr. Larue, please do this favor for me… I'd feel a lot more at ease if you were there…"

"Mr. Mayor, how many times must I tell you that I'm a _researcher, _not a _surgeon?"_

"I'm not asking you to actually do the surgery! I just want you there to supervise!"

Dr. Larue still wasn't warm to the idea. "And why do you think I owe you any favors?" she asked, motioning to the blackened hole where the lab table used to be.

"Well… you don't," Ned admitted. "But! But if you do this for me, I'll pay you back for everything that I broke, or made explode, or that you broke when you were trying to hurt me!"

That didn't fly with Dr. Larue—if anything, that promise made her even more irritated. "And by that do you mean that you _weren't _planning on paying for this before now?"

Ned squirmed, realizing that he was digging his own grave here. "I'll pay it back and then some! I'll upgrade your lab for you. I'll make it Super Lab. Your dream lab. Whatever special modifications or gadgets or doodads you've always dreamed of, they're yours! All you have to do is tell me, and I'll do it!"

Dr. Larue finally seemed to be growing somewhat receptive. She "hmm"ed softly to herself in thought, scratching her chin.

"_Please, _Dr. Larue," said Ned, having to fight a strong urge to drop down to his knees and beg. "It's your research, and despite my freaking out about this whole thing, you're the only one I trust. It makes me want to _die, _thinking about my wife at the mercy of doctors I hardly know! I'd rather risk an operation myself than go through this!"

Dr. Larue blinked. "Why didn't you mention that in the first place?" she asked. "If you're more willing to risk an operation than you're willing to let your wife risk it, you could always have scheduled a vasectomy."

Ned stared at her. "You never mentioned _that _option!"

"You never made inquiries about it! Of course, if safety is still your primary concern—and a very valid concern, I might add—it's still probably preferable for your wife to undergo an operation rather than yourself—vasectomies are only a theoretical option at this point, I've hardly skimmed the surface of research with those—"

"Come on!" Ned interrupted, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her out the door.

"Whoa, wait! I still never agreed to this!" cried Dr. Larue, although her plea obviously fell on deaf ears as she was whisked out of the room.


	8. VII

Much to Jojo's dismay, Zaneeta had let her new, temporary position of power go to her head.

Well, okay, maybe that wasn't the best way to describe it. She wasn't at the level of pompousness that the chairman had achieved—and despite Zaneeta's sass and authoritative nature, Jojo highly doubted she'd _ever _get to that extreme. She always meant well, even if she could be a little bossy at times—her bossiness stemmed from the fact that she always believed she was right and wanted to make everything run smoothly _her _way. No, Zaneeta was rarely arrogant, and she wasn't today, either.

However, she seemed to be enjoying being co-mayor a bit _too _much.

"Mayor's office, this is the mayor speaking!" she chirped in a friendly voice, answering the phone.

"Zaneeta!" Jojo hissed. "Stop answering the—"

"What do you mean, 'is this the real mayor'? Of course I'm the mayor! I have been for a good thirty minutes!"

Jojo pressed his palm against his forehead and shook his head sadly. He basically had two options right now—either try to pry the phone out of his crazy sister's hands and tell her to actually _act _like a mayor, or go amuse himself elsewhere and just ignore her, because any attempts to make her more sane were doomed to fail on principle alone.

"No, I assure you, I'm here completely legally!" Zaneeta insisted, still smiling.

Jojo sighed. Option number two it was. He made his way to his father's desk, pulling open the drawers and looking for something to tinker with.

"How old am I?" Zaneeta paused a bit for dramatic effect, the smile seemingly permanently etched on her face. "…I'm twelve!"

Jojo desperately tried to ignore her, pulling out three pens, a stapler, a roll of duct tape, and a really ugly looking paperweight.

"Well, of course I'm not here by myself! The co-mayor's here too. Would you like to talk to him?"

_That _Jojo couldn't ignore. He turned his attention back to his sister in an instant, his eyes bulging with disbelief, frantically shaking his head.

Zaneeta, of course, saw her brother's obvious apprehension, but if anything it only made her smile even broader and more maliciously. "Sure! Here he is!" She handed the receiver to Jojo.

Jojo stared at the receiver in dumb horror. "Hello? Hello?" the Who on the other end demanded. "Is anyone even there? Is this some kind of joke or something?"

Zaneeta motioned towards the phone, mouthing _say something!_

Awkwardly, Jojo held the phone up to his face, although he still remained too stupefied to actually say anything.

Zaneeta mouthed the words again, although this time slower and more pronounced, as if with urgency.

Jojo finally opened his mouth. "Uh…"

That one utterance was all it took for the Who on the other end of the line to realize that he was once again on the phone with a child. "Another child? What's the meaning of this? Where's the _real _mayor?"

"He's, uh, not here right now," Jojo stammered.

"He's _not here right now? _I call with a question about the width of the city sidewalks and expect to be answered in a professional manner by the leader of the city, not by some kids! Either the mayor thinks it's a hoot to hire little pre-teens as his secretaries to mess with the citizens' heads, or you punk kids have broken into his office and sabotaged his phone! And I'm telling you, either way—"

_Click. _Shaking with nervousness, Jojo hastily hung up the phone, ending the conversation.

Zaneeta rolled her eyes. "Jojo! You hung up on him! That's not professional! Honestly, your people skills are pathetic."

"Then why did you give me the phone in the first place?" snapped Jojo. "You were doing a fine job of ruining the integrity of Dad's job all on your own!"

Zaneeta shrugged, unaffected. "I ruin the integrity while you ruin the office. What are you doing?"

Jojo took apart a pen, pleased to see that it was full of springs and wires. "Building."

"Building what?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'll know when I'm finished with it."

"You're so weird," said Zaneeta, although she had a smile to match her brother's. Taking everyday objects apart and putting them together in new ways was Jojo's only true joy in life, and it was nice to see him smile a genuine, unguarded smile.

Jojo rolled his eyes at her. _"I'm _weird? You're the one who seems to think there's nothing weird about answering the phone and pretending to be mayor."

"I'm not pretending, though, don't you get it?" said Zaneeta excitedly. "We _are _the mayors! Dad left _us _in charge! This isn't pretending!"

"Then stop acting like it is, if that's what you think," muttered Jojo.

Zaneeta bit her lip. "Well," she finally said, "if it seems like I'm pretending, it's just because I've never done this before. I need to, you know, try out all my options of being mayor."

Jojo smirked at her. "In other words, you have no idea what you're doing."

"I do too!" snapped Zaneeta. "And anyway… you're the one who doesn't know what you're doing! You're building something that you don't even know what it'll be!"

Jojo shrugged. "Yeah, that's true."

"You're clueless!"

"Yep."

"Yeah, you're… completely… clueless…" Zaneeta finished lamely, realizing that her rebukes were having no effect on him.

"I'm not arguing with you on that," Jojo said. "Unlike you, I can admit when I don't know what I'm doing."

"I can so admit when I don't know what I'm doing," sniffed Zaneeta. "It's just that I don't _have _to right now, because I know exactly what I'm doing!"

Jojo looked at her playfully. "Then what _are _you doing?"

Zaneeta stammered. "I'm, uh…"

RING! It was the phone.

"I'm answering the phone!" she said quickly, reaching for it.

"Just don't make me talk this time," muttered Jojo.

Zaneeta cleared her throat before picking up the receiver and saying "Hello?" in a very strange voice. Jojo winced. Apparently, she was throwing her voice in an attempt to actually sound like their dad… and failing miserably.

"Oh, Mr. Chairman!" Zaneeta said sarcastically, still in her best attempt at her father's voice. "Yes, of course it's me. I was just eating, uh, garlic. A lot of garlic. It plays hob with my vocal chords!"

Jojo set down his blossoming creation, apprehensively tuning in to his sister's conversation. Zaneeta, who the chairman already loathed, talking to said chairman while pretending to be their father, who the chairman had loathed since probably the beginning of time? This was promising to be a disaster, no matter what the outcome.

"Well, Mr. Chairman," Zaneeta was saying, "if it's really oh-so-urgent, then I suppose it can't wait. Bring it up to my office and I'll take a look at it. …Mm-hm, right, I'll remember that. See you soon, and try to only fall down a _few_ stairs." Smiling in grim satisfaction, she hung up the phone.

"What was _that _all about?" Jojo demanded.

"There's a proposal for renovating the city's roller-rink," said Zaneeta. "Very urgent. It can't wait. The chairman'll be up here soon to show it to the mayor. And _we're _the mayors," she finished, a scheming gleam in her eyes.

"I don't like that look," said Jojo fearfully.

"What do you think I'm going to do to him?" asked Zaneeta. "I've just got to look over that proposal. I'm just smiling," she added playfully, "because I'm thinking that if on the, you know, _extreeeeemely _slim chance that he treats me like a moronic two-year-old, I'm just going to have some fun treating him likewise! But you and I both know that's definitely _not_ going to happen—Jojo, are you even listening to me?"

For Jojo had, in the middle of Zaneeta's speech, started rummaging through the drawers of his father's desk again. "Yeah, I was," said Jojo. "And in honor of the chairman's visit, I've decided what I'm going to build." He looked up at her, with a sadistic smile that put her previous one to shame.

Zaneeta grinned. "I'm so proud of you!"

…………

"…any questions?" Dr. Hoovey finished.

Sally shook her head. "Nope, it all sounds good to me!" she said. "As long as I'm knocked out for the actual operation, then I'll be just fine." She paused in apprehension. "You're _sure _I won't feel anything?"

Dr. Hoovey nodded. "Don't worry, the anesthetics will put you in a state of complete unconsciousness. Besides, even if you were conscious, I wouldn't think that the pain would be any greater than childbirth, and you've had plenty of exposure to that!"

Sally sighed. "Fourteen pregnancies, ninety-seven children, you better believe it. I guess you're right, though… that last one wasn't as bad, comparatively, as the first."

"Well, seeing as you have no questions, let's get this started."

"Yeah, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can be one hundred percent positive that my fourteenth pregnancy will also have been my _last." _She gave a cautious glance around the room. "Besides, I've often found that when I've waited for things, I wish I'd just gotten them over with, because often in that time I waste by waiting, something suddenly happens that prolongs whatever it was I was putting off even longer—"

"_WAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIT! HOLD EVERYTHING!"_

Recognizing her husband's voice, Sally sighed in irritation. "Can I call them or what?"

Ned burst into the room, dragging behind him a totally dazed and disheveled Dr. Larue. "Sally, you _can't _have this operation!"

Sally sighed. "We've been over this, Ned—I can and I will. Dr. Hoovey?" She snapped her fingers and Dr. Hoovey obediently opened the door to the operating room.

"No, no! I don't want to risk losing you! _I'll _have the operation! I'll have the—uh—what did you call it again, Dr. Larue?"

Dr. Larue, however, was still blinking slowly, in a totally shell-shocked state from being so suddenly whisked off to the hospital. "My whole life just flashed before my eyes…"

"Ned—" Sally began.

"Dr. Larue!" Ned cried, gently shaking her by the shoulders to snap her out of her funk.

"Huh? What?" Dr. Larue was quickly brought back to reality. "Wait, are you seriously thinking you want a vasectomy done in the place of your wife's tubal ligation?"

"Of course I am!" cried Ned. "Granted, I'm terrified of operations and doctors scare me—not professors like you, Dr. Larue, but medical doctors—not that you're very scary yourself, Dr. Hoovey, but you do make me a little ill at ease—"

Sally placed a hand on Ned's mouth, quieting him. "Sweetheart," she said slowly and gently, "as much as I appreciate what you're willing to do to avoid putting me at risk, you need to think this out logically. Let's say that your paranoia is completely justified and the one of us who went through the operation does, in fact, die. Who's more expendable?"

"How can you even _ask _that," Ned managed to say even though Sally's hand was still on his mouth, "it's obviously—"

"Me," Sally interrupted. "You're the mayor. I'm not."

"But…" Ned began, but then trailed off, not having anything to counter that.

"Think about it," said Sally. "We've just recently quite suddenly lost our previous mayor. And just as the town's starting to get used to you, you want to risk pulling another upheaval on them if the operation doesn't go smoothly?" She raised an eyebrow. "You're willing to risk the possibility of leaving our twelve-year-old son to be mayor?"

Of all the things to think right then, the first thought to flash through his mind was an echo of his previous statement to Zaneeta—_"But added together, you're twenty-four!"_ But it only took a second for the reality of just what it would mean if he _did _die right then… what it would mean to the town, to Jojo.

"You're right," he murmured in resignation.

"Don't worry about me," she said softly, stroking his face. "If I can handle popping out ninety-seven kids, which no Who before me has ever done, then I can certainly handle a measly little operation."

"Telling me not to worry is like telling me not to breathe," he muttered. "I still want Dr. Larue in there supervising, just to make sure nothing goes wrong, alright?"

Sally shrugged. "That's fine with me, as long as Drs. Hoovey and Larue are alright with it."

Dr. Hoovey grinned. "Are you kidding me? To have Dr. Larue present during a procedure—her research has influenced so much of my work—it would be an honor!"

Dr. Larue sighed in resignation. "Oh, very well… seeing as I'm already here, I suppose I might as well." She glared at Ned. "You _owe _me, Mr. Mayor."

"Super Lab," said Ned quickly. "The lab to end all labs. It's all yours, anything you can dream of and what the taxpayers' money covers."

"I thought you _yourself _were going to pay for it," said Dr. Larue, raising an eyebrow.

Ned laughed nervously. "Of course, that's what I meant."

"Can we please get this over with now?" Sally asked, to both Ned and Dr. Hoovey. "I need to clean the kitchen today, and I promised Jenny, Caroline, and Maria that I'd help them with their book reports tonight."

"Certainly. We're late as it is," said Dr. Hoovey. He again made his way to the door to the operating room.

"Wait!" Ned cried, grabbing Sally by the arm. "Before you go in there—"

Sally half sighed, half smiled, knowing what was coming next.

"—I just want you to know that I love you, I've loved you ever since the seventh grade when we were lab partners and you helped me with my homework when I completely forgot about it—do you even remember that?—and I've just loved you more and more each and every day since then, and these last twelve years that we've been married have been the happiest years of my life, and—"

"I'm going to be _fine, _Ned," said Sally, not able to stop herself from smiling and even laughing a bit. "Now if you're about done carrying on like a clichéd scene from a movie, I'd like to—"

Ned's sudden kiss prevented her from continuing that statement.

Drs. Hoovey and Larue exchanged glances. "…You know, Dr. Larue," said Dr. Hoovey slowly and carefully, "I always _have _been a dedicated follower of your research in the short amount of time you've been a major name in the scientific field…"

Dr. Larue looked appalled. "Please, Dr. Hoovey, restrain yourself! You're at least thirty years my senior!"

Sally pulled herself away from Ned. "Dr. Hoovey, get me in there and give me that operation right now before this Casanova gets me pregnant again!"

…………

Predictably, the chairman had been less than pleased when he arrived at the mayor's office and encountered the mayor's oldest daughter rather than the mayor himself. Granted, he would have been less than pleased in any circumstance… but with these conditions, he was both less than pleased _and _angrily bewildered.

"I really don't have time for your games, little girl, so just tell me, where is your father?" he growled.

"He had to step out for a moment," said Zaneeta. "He needed to, uh, buy some more garlic. He left me in charge, though, so why don't I take a look at that proposal?"

The chairman snorted. "Even your father wouldn't be stupid enough to leave a child your age in charge."

Zaneeta kept her smile. "Well, you know my dad," she said with a shrug, "always full of surprises!" _Besides, _she thought to herself, _he didn't leave ME in charge—he left JOJO and me in charge. _Jojo, however, was safely hidden from view at that moment—his special surprise for the chairman had to be made in secret. Zaneeta would just have to keep the chairman away from the desk to avoid him catching a glimpse of Jojo hard at work underneath it, that was all.

She politely but firmly took the documents out of the chairman's hands. "Now if you'll just let me take a look at these—"

"What kind of fool do you take me for?" the chairman snapped.

"Do you _really _want me to answer that honestly?"

"Little girl," said the chairman, shaking in what was very clearly quickly growing rage, "I only barely tolerate your father because it's required for my job… but there is nothing in my job description that requires me to be civil to _you."_

"Actually," said Zaneeta politely, "my dad _did _leave me in charge, and even said that it was an executive decision, so that basically means that I'm the mayor until he gets back, so you _have _to treat me with respect."

"Respect, maybe," the chairman snapped back, "but that doesn't entail playing along with your game of make-believe!"

Zaneeta chose to ignore the chairman's arguments. "Well, these look alright, but why exactly do we need to revamp the roller-rink? I go there a lot, and it seems fine to me. Is it for safety reasons, or just a general upgrade?"

"It's to raise money, of course," said the chairman testily. "Notice we've elongated the walls for more advertising space, and we've added a huge snack bar in the middle."

"Oh, so that's what the square here is?" Zaneeta gave the chairman a questioning look. "A huge snack bar right in the middle of where people are going to be roller skating? That sounds kind of dangerous, don't you think?"

"Who cares?" shrugged the chairman. "If we put the snack bar in the middle of the rink, all the Whos in the rink will be in close proximity to the snack bar—and thus, they'll be more likely to spend their money!"

"But they could get hurt!" Zaneeta protested.

"They're roller skating! They're obviously going to be getting hurt!"

"Falling down on your butt and skating head-first into a building are two totally different kinds of hurt," said Zaneeta, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but as mayor, I can't approve these plans. You'll have to move the snack bar."

"But you're _not _the mayor!" cried the chairman, having reached the end of the rope (that is, if he hadn't already reached it a long time ago).

"I am so," protested Zaneeta. "Unless if you want to argue with a mayoral decree, that is."

The chairman flung up his arms in aggravation. "Why do I even think I can get _anything _done around here?" he cried, spinning around towards the door—and nearly tripping on Jojo.

"Aarrgh, _you!" _the chairman roared. "What do _you _want?"

Jojo sighed. He, of course, was used to being tripped over, seeing as he was small for his age—and it didn't help that he was at the age where Who girls were naturally larger than Who boys anyway. He still had a couple of years before he'd hit his growth spurt and catch up to his oldest sisters. But now wasn't the time to bemoan his diminutive size.

"I want to apologize about my sister," he said simply. "She's… a little crazy."

"Hey!" cried Zaneeta.

"Well," sniffed the chairman, "it isn't entirely her fault, after all. The two of you were rather short-changed in the genetics department, that's all."

Jojo rolled his eyes, although as discreetly as possible. "I have a gift for you, to make it up to you." He handed the chairman his project—which simply looked like a rather ugly paperweight that had a closed lid at the top.

"Is this some kind of joke?" snapped the chairman. "This looks like that paperweight I gave your father as my 'congratulations' gift upon becoming mayor." The words "congratulations gift" were mumbled with clear animosity.

"It was at first," said Jojo, "but now it's a jack-in-the-box."

"So _that's _it, you little brat!" the chairman crowed in victory. "You think I'm going to wind up your jack-in-the-box only to have it actually be a fist-in-the-box and hit me in the face? It's the oldest trick in the book—and now _you're _going to fall victim to it!" With a rather crazed smile, he quickly pointed the lidded end at Jojo and furiously cranked the handle, not bothering to listen to the rather pretty, unique tune coming from the paperweight.

It only took a second for the jack-in-the-box to pop open… but when it did, it was the end closest to the _chairman _that sprung out. It was a rather large coffee mug, though, not a fist, that sent the chairman flying.

Zaneeta blinked. "…whoa. What just happened there?"

Jojo shrugged modestly. "I gave it to him upside-down. The side he thought was the top had a fake lid on it."

"Wow," said Zaneeta in awe. "That's really cool, Jojo."

Jojo smiled bashfully. "Thanks."

The chairman pulled himself up on his feet, glaring daggers at the children. "Why you filthy little _brats, _I'll—"

"Oh, come on, you won't do anything!" cried Zaneeta, throwing her arms out in front of her body in a "back off" gesture. "Remember, we're only twelve. We're sweet, innocent little children who don't realize the consequences of our actions."

"You expect me to believe that about you two _monsters?"_

"Well, no, not you. But everyone else will," said Zaneeta with a wink. "Imagine what they'll say about you, attacking two defenseless children in such a way! If we were only a year older, it'd be alright, because then we'd be thirteen and punk teenagers and need to be taught our place. Bad timing for you, I guess!"

"Bad timing _indeed!" _snapped the chairman, enraged. "I'll come back Monday, when this nonsense of 'Bring Your Child to Work Day' is over and I can actually speak to an _adult _moron, not his moronic children!"

"There's a moron in this room, but he's not a child," said Zaneeta.

"Just you wait until next year," snapped the chairman, scooping up the roller-rink documents and making his way to the door. "Because trust me, I'll be the first in line to refer to you two as 'punk teenagers'!" And with that, he stormed his way out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

"You sure make fast friends, Zaneeta," said Jojo.

"Hey! I was totally polite to him when he first came to us and started treating us like babies," protested Zaneeta. "But I can only take so much condescending before I turn nasty. Besides, I'm not the one who clobbered him with a jack-in-the-box!"

"That was really satisfying," said Jojo, with a contented sigh.

"Hmm, I bet," grinned Zaneeta. "It was really satisfying to see that bruise on his forehead too!"

At that moment, the same bruised chairman was storming his way down the hallway, nearly plowing his way into Ned, who was running back to the office. "Oh, I'm sorry—oh, it's you," Ned began.

The chairman flung the roller-rink proposal papers at Ned's head. _"Here's _what I was _going _to go over with you just now, you boob! With _you, _mind you, not your two _monsters! _What kind of professional steps outside to buy _garlic _and leaves his snot-nosed _brats _in charge of an _entire CITY?!"_

"…Garlic?"

"Oh, don't play dumb with me!" roared the chairman. "You do such a fine job at being dumb without having to pretend to be even dumber!" Without waiting for Ned to inquire any further, he tore down the hallway, ending their conversation.

"Whatever just happened, it doesn't sound good," he murmured to himself, running even faster to his office. He flung open the door to find Jojo and Zaneeta laughing to each other and his ugly paperweight on the floor (with a spring attaching it to one of his coffee mugs, strangely enough), but other than that, everything seemed to be normal.

"Hi Dad!" said Zaneeta cheerfully.

"Was… was the chairman just in here?" Ned asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," sighed Zaneeta. "How do you put up with him?"

"With lots and lots of aspirin," Ned mumbled. Jojo and Zaneeta giggled.

"How did Mom's operation go?" Zaneeta asked, instantly serious. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," said Ned, looking positively relieved himself. "It didn't even take very long. But yes, she's perfectly fine, and—"

"And you never mentioned what kind of an operation it _was," _Zaneeta interrupted suspiciously. "Was it something to stop her from getting pregnant so often?"

Ned laughed. "Now what would make you think that she doesn't want to get pregnant again?"

Zaneeta rolled her eyes playfully. "I dunno, Dad, something about the ninety-seven kids kinda tipped me off. So that's what it was, then?"

"Yep. Dr. Hoovey is a real professional—and, of course, having Dr. Larue there too to make sure nothing went wrong helped calm me down a little bit." He looked around the room—specifically, at the paperweight. "And now that I've filled you in on your mom's status, would you mind telling me what exactly happened here? The chairman looked ready to kill something."

"I kinda got the impression that he _always _looked like that," said Zaneeta.

"That's true…" Ned tried to keep himself from smiling. "But it's also beside the point. You aggravated him, didn't you?"

"Hey, I tried to be nice. He needed to talk to the mayor about a proposal for renovating the city roller-rink—and since you left us in charge, that meant he had to talk to me! And maybe it's just me, but putting a huge building right in the middle of where Whos will be skating doesn't sound very safe. I told him that, and he got mad at me!"

Ned sighed. "And what about the paperweight?"

"That was Jojo," said Zaneeta with a smile. "You should have seen it, Dad! It was brilliant! Jojo rigged that jack-in-the-box so that the chairman smacked himself in the face without even meaning to!"

"What?" cried Ned in dismay. "You knocked the chairman out, Jojo?"

Jojo made a noise of protest, pointing dumbly at the paperweight on the floor.

"He didn't!" Zaneeta quickly clarified. "It didn't knock him out at all—just gave him a nice little bruise on his head. And it was the chairman's fault—he was trying to knock out Jojo with his own invention, can you believe it?"

Ned sighed, feeling torn by Jojo's look of irritation and Zaneeta's look of pleading. "Listen, kids, understand that on the one hand, I'm trying to teach you right from wrong and get it through your heads that it's _never _alright to hurt someone… and on the other hand, I'm absolutely _irate, _because… I wish I could have seen it!"

Both Jojo and Zaneeta burst out laughing, from relief as much as anything else. Ned laughed too, pulling them both towards him in a hug.

"Just promise me you won't do it again," he said.

"As long as I never have to be in contact with him again, then I promise!" said Zaneeta, hugging him back. Jojo said nothing, instead struggling vainly to get away from this rather cheesy show of affection from his old man.

"Now," said Ned, pulling away from them, "are you two ready to relinquish your power back to me?"

Jojo nodded emphatically.

"Oh, I suppose," sighed Zaneeta sadly. "As my last mayoral decree, I, Zaneeta O'Malley, hereby bestow the powers vested in me and my brother, Jojo McDodd, back to my father and previous mayor, Ned McDodd." She smiled. "How was that? Did it sound regal enough?"

"Almost _too _regal," said Ned. "I think you've been around the chairman for too long."

"If I ever start sounding like _him, _do me a favor and knock me out with that jack-in-the-box, Jojo!" Zaneeta cried.

…………

Ed, it turned out, had been right about Ned's doubts. Having been thrown into the mayoral position so suddenly, Ned had hardly had any time to even worry about the job he was doing and if he had been at all prepared for it. By the time he _could _actually worry, he realized he didn't need to, because his father had been correct—he apparently _was_ able to handle the responsibility right off the bat.

And Who-ville was able to handle a new mayor, too. It surprised Ned how quickly the town resumed its normal schedule. It surprised him even more at how quickly he fell into the mayoral routine, as if he had been following it his whole life. Life was good again—in fact, life was even _better _than it ever had been before. As the months flew by, Ned felt as though his whole life was a machine that had finally been correctly assembled—every piece was in place. Yes, life was absolutely _wonderful._

And then the tremors came.


	9. VIII

_Now_

THIS FRIDAY!

_Come attend the Dance-Off and Hotdog Eating Competition!_

_Part of the Who Centennial festivities!_

_With music provided by Sex Drugs and Muffins!_

_Admission: 2 with student ID_

_3 per couple_

_(Money raised goes towards the Who-ville Housing Renovation Fund.)_

Jojo McDodd, Zaneeta and Faye O'Malley, and Ryan Stone, all freshly released from their Whostory class, gathered around the flyer hanging on the wall of the hallway.

"Are any of you going?" Ryan asked his friends.

Faye made a face. "No way. Who wants to watch Whos stuff their faces full of hotdogs? That's so disgusting."

"The money goes for a good cause, though," Ryan reminded her, pointing to the note tacked on the end.

"We know that," said Zaneeta. "It was our dad's idea." Following the whole "say-what-we're-on-a-speck?" incident, which had resulted in many buildings sustaining damage minor to catastrophic, Ned had passed an ordinance to raise money to help rebuild the houses. And since many Whos were going to the centennial events anyway, why not use the money spent on those to pay for what they needed most?

"Was your house hit really bad?" Ryan asked. The four friends had started walking down the hallway to the cafeteria, their growling stomachs leading the way.

"Not really," said Zaneeta. "Some of the foundations got a little screwed up, but there was no real damage. Dad moved all the breakable stuff early on."

"Ours wasn't very damaged either, although we have a lot of broken windows," said Ryan. "Anyway, Jojo, Zaneeta, are either of you going to go?"

Jojo shook his head. "Nah. I hate dances."

"How can you hate a dance that has music provided by Sex Drugs and Muffins?" cried Zaneeta.

Jojo made a face of disgust. "Because they suck."

"They do not! They're the greatest band ever!"

"Why do you keep asking if any of us are going?" Faye demanded Ryan, ignoring her older siblings' argument.

"Well, I'd kinda like to go, but…" Ryan blushed a bit. "I don't wanna go by myself."

"Looking for a date, are you?" Zaneeta winked suggestively.

"Not necessarily a _date," _Ryan quickly clarified, although his blush was growing a deeper and deeper shade of red, "just a friend… you know, so I know somebody there…"

"Well, I'd go with you," said Zaneeta, "but I've got to stay at home and help Mom with my sisters."

"That's always your excuse," said Faye. "You're a teenager, Zaneeta! You need to enjoy your youth!"

"Says the girl who's not going to the dance in the first place," said Zaneeta playfully.

"Hey, I don't _want _to go," Faye countered. "I'm quite happy being the world's youngest frump."

"I don't really want to go either," Zaneeta admitted. "I mean, I love Sex Drugs and Muffins, but dances just really bore me. I can listen to my CDs at home. Besides, I've got to study for our finals."

"Week from tomorrow, we're out for summer!" Faye shouted in excitement.

"Woooooo!" came a cheer from the cafeteria—for the four teenaged Whos had finally made it to their destination. Rhiannon and Virginia were already seated at a table, waiting for their other birth siblings to join them. Courtney Van Horn, one of Ryan's birth siblings, was with them.

"Hotdogs for lunch today!" said Virginia cheerfully, holding up her meal.

Faye shuddered. "Oh, please… I'm getting sick just _looking _at it."

"Hey, Courtney!" said Zaneeta. "How are—"

"_Hi, _Jojo!" Courtney interrupted, with dipped-with-sugar sweetness and a flutter of her eyes.

Jojo blinked, completely nonplussed by her behavior.

Courtney continued to smile, pulling out a handkerchief. "How are you today—whoops!" she cried out, very rehearsed, as she dropped her handkerchief to the floor. "Oh, silly me!" she laughed shrilly. "I seem to have dropped my handkerchief!" She looked back at Jojo, still batting her eyelids.

And Jojo still did nothing but stare at her, in honest, complete confusion.

Zaneeta sighed. "She's flirting with you, Jojo," she said bluntly.

"What?" Jojo cried.

"_Zaneeta!" _shrieked Courtney in horror.

"Come on, it's that old romantic ideal, 'Oh, madam, I noticed that you dropped your handkerchief, let me get it for you'," Zaneeta said in an overly dramatic tone.

Faye shuddered. "Yeah, because nothing says 'true love' like a snotty rag!"

A girl at the next table shot up her hand as if she was still in class. "If you're not going to pick up hers, Jojo, you can pick up mine!"

Soon practically all the girls in the cafeteria who weren't Jojo's sisters were following suit.

"And mine!"

"And mine!"

"I don't have a handkerchief, so—" One girl picked up her lunch tray, held it out in front of her, and let it crash to the ground. "You can pick up my tray!"

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. "Yeah, making the poor guy clean up after you, that's really the way to get the guys! They have no idea how to get a guy's attention."

Faye snorted. "Right, and as if you _do."_

"Sure I do," said Rhiannon. "Watch me."

Abruptly, she stood up and made her way to Ryan's side. Ryan, shy by nature, blushed even redder than Zaneeta's fire-red hair. "Hey, Ryan," Rhiannon said sweetly, but not in an over-the-top way like Courtney had just a few minutes earlier to Jojo.

"Uh… hi, Rhiannon," Ryan stammered, fidgeting madly.

"Are you going to the dance tomorrow night?" Rhiannon asked.

"Uh, no… not unless I…" Ryan was shaking so frightfully that he couldn't get the words out. Zaneeta, Faye, and Virginia all giggled. It had always been fairly obvious that Ryan had a crush on Rhiannon, but Rhiannon had never acted upon this… until now.

"Not unless you what? Find someone to go with you?" Rhiannon finished for him.

"…y-yes," Ryan squeaked out.

"That's exactly what I was thinking—I want to go, but not by myself. Do you want to go with me?"

"W-w-with _you?"_

"Of course! It's only three dollars a couple as opposed to two per person. Do you want to pick me up at my house at, oh, 6:30 maybe?"

"Uh… o-o-o… okay," Ryan finally managed to say.

"Great! See you then!" Rhiannon smiled and almost skipped her way back to her seat. "See?" she said with a smile to her sisters. "Easy as pie."

All the other girls in the cafeteria, however, were now crowding around Jojo, their wave of, "Jojo, are you going to the dance tomorrow night?" overpowering Rhiannon's voice.

Jojo looked at his sisters helplessly. "Help?" he squeaked out.

"I love you!" shrieked one of the girls.

"I love you more!" another girl countered.

"I've loved you before they ever did!"

"I love you infinity!"

"I love you infinity _plus one!"_

Zaneeta pushed her way through the crowd of girls, pulling Jojo to safety. "Listen, you guys, my brother will decide which one of you he likes the best tomorrow!"

"I'll _what?" _cried Jojo.

"I'll make him like me best!"

"No way, he'll be all over me! Just wait!"

"I'll do your homework for you, Jojee-poo!"

"And the type of girl Jojo likes best," Zaneeta shouted to be heard over the lovesick teenagers, "is the girl who leaves him alone!"

_Zip! _In a nanosecond, Jojo's entire unofficial fanclub had transported themselves back to their seats and continued their lunch as if nothing had happened.

Jojo stared at Zaneeta, while Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia all laughed.

"Your line is 'Thank you, Zaneeta!'" Zaneeta prompted her brother.

Jojo was still too much in shock to register what she had just said. "I swear," he said instead, "I have ninety-six sisters and I still don't understand girls."

"They are… confusing," said Ryan awkwardly, trying to gaze at Rhiannon yet avert his gaze from her at the same time.

"Why did you have to tell them I'd decide between them?" Jojo hissed to Zaneeta. "I don't want to go, and I definitely don't want to go with any of them!"

Zaneeta shrugged. "Then tomorrow, just say that you've decided that they're all so wonderful that you couldn't possibly chose between them and hurt anyone's feelings, so you're not going to choose anyone!"

Faye snorted. "Or you could tell them the truth and say that they all creep you out and you wouldn't touch them with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole. That'll maybe keep them away from you for good."

"Are you planning on going to the dance, Virginia?" Rhiannon asked.

Virginia shook her head. "Nah. I thought about it, maybe going by myself… it's more expensive by myself, but the money does go towards a good cause… oh, maybe I will go. I don't know yet."

"It sounds like you're the only one of us who really _wants _to go, Rhiannon!" said Faye. "Good thing you landed a guy!"

Ryan blushed again, causing Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia to all laugh again, much to Zaneeta's relief. She was sure that, for a fraction of a second, she had looked downhearted due to Faye's comment, and the last thing she wanted was for her sisters to notice it. Because, in truth, Zaneeta _did _want to go. But not by herself, especially not now that Rhiannon had a date. It would be too embarrassing. Besides, the one Who she wanted to take… well. She couldn't really have him, because then she probably _wouldn't _want him.

She stole the quickest of glances across the room at… _him. _Ian Stone. Ryan and Courtney's birth sibling. As was often the case, the principal was chastising Ian for something, while Ian seemed to be laughing it off with haughty indifference. He was the wild child, the troublemaker, the "bad kid". So many clichés rolled into one untamed teenager. Zaneeta hardly approved of half of the things he did… but the _other_ half…

Zaneeta winced, trying to get those thoughts of perverse admiration out of her head. As if she could let people know that! Besides, she was smart enough and knew herself well enough to know that her crush on him was simply because she viewed him as a challenge. So wild, such a hopeless "lost cause", just waiting for some Who to tame him and restore order… and who better than Zaneeta, who had long prided herself on creating order out of chaos?

But she realized that, if she was actually ever successful at this… then he'd lose the very desirability that drew Zaneeta to him in the first place.

So she didn't keep her gaze on him very long, instead bringing her attention back to the table at which she sat and joining her sisters in laughter.

Virginia controlled her laughter first. "Hey, it's actually quite serious, if you think about it!" she said. "Rhiannon's the first one of us to ever have a date!"

Rhiannon's eyes lit up. "You're right! Oh, is Dad going to have a cow when I tell him…"

Zaneeta laughed darkly. "Oh, Ryan, I really pity you right now. I'm sure Dad's going to subject you and Rhiannon to 'the talk'—"

Rhiannon's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh please, no! He _can't _embarrass me like this!"

The red of Ryan's blushing had finally subsided, giving way to a pale, terrified white. "Your dad's not going to… kill me, is he?"

"No, just annoy you," said Faye.

"No, he's going to kill _me _when I tell him that I have a date!" Rhiannon shrieked.

…………

The next day…

"Rhiannon, you're as flighty as a bumblebee today!" Sally remarked.

"Huh?" Rhiannon nearly dropped the ladle into the oatmeal that she was stirring. "What makes you say that?"

"It could be something about how you almost poured the orange juice into the oatmeal before I stopped you," said Alison, raising an eyebrow.

"So spill the beans, sweet pea," said Sally with a smirk, crossing her arms in front of her. "What's got you so excited?"

"I'll tell you and Dad later, during my allotted twelve seconds," sighed Rhiannon. She bit her lip. "I'd better make sure I'm last, though, because I have a feeling Dad's reaction will be a lot longer than twelve seconds…"

"Jeez!" cried Alison, throwing twenty pieces of bread into their large toaster. "Are you confessing to being part of the mafia, or what?"

Sally gave a knowing smile. "It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the dance, would it?"

Alison's eyes grew wide in realization. _"Ooooh! _Rhiannon's got a date!"

Rhiannon _did _drop the ladle into the oatmeal this time, splattering herself with her breakfast, and hitting her mother and sister with it as well. "Shh, Alison, not so loud!" She gave her mother a helpless glance. "Is it really that obvious, Mom?"

Sally laughed, wiping bits of oatmeal off her face. "I'm your mother, I know these things. Besides, I acted almost exactly like you were the morning before _my _first date. Terry Taylor. Nice kid, had a kind of hopeless crush on me—I wasn't all that interested, but I dated him to be nice. I was still nervous, though. I had no clue what to expect."

"What happened?" Rhiannon and Alison asked in unison, both temporarily putting aside their normal kitchen-assisting duties.

"He took me to see a movie… but it turns out neither of us had enough money. So then he took me home." Sally chuckled at the memory.

"That was it? No kiss?" Alison asked, disappointed.

"A kiss on the first date?" Sally asked.

"Why not?" Alison countered. "How romantic…"

"No, no kiss… that night. That Monday, though, at school, when he first saw me he gave me this huge smack right on the lips! It was completely out of the blue and very… wet. Not the greatest first kiss in the world." Sally smirked. "So I broke up with him right then."

"Wow, that didn't last very long," said Alison.

Rhiannon, however, looked a little panicked. "Why do I have a feeling that that's what's going to happen to us? Ryan's always had this crush on me—I'd better make sure I bring enough money—what if he tries to kiss me? What'll I do?"

The toaster dinged. "You could get the toast for me!" Alison interjected hopefully.

"Or you could go back to fixing that oatmeal," said Sally.

"No, wait—I've got to make sure that I'm in the last seat!" cried Rhiannon, sprinting away from her cooking duties and to the table.

Unfortunately, she appeared to be too late. Sitting in the seat closest to Sally's usual seat—and thus, the seat that would be the last one to reach Ned—was one of her six-year-old sisters, Heather, who was already boasting her victory of reaching the seat first to Jojo. "I beat you, I beat you!" she taunted her brother.

Jojo sighed in mock despair. "Yeah, you beat me—"

"Uh-uh! I don't _think _so!" Rhiannon abruptly lifted Heather out of the chair. "I'm sitting here today."

"Nuh-uh, I got here first!" protested Heather. "That's not fair!"

"I _have _to sit here today," said Rhiannon, plopping Heather down in the seat to the other side of their brother. "Just ask Jojo."

Heather gave Jojo a questioning look. Jojo nodded. "Yeah, she's right. She needs to tell Daddy something very important."

"But I want to be last and have the most time with Daddy—something important? Like what?" Heather suddenly asked, instantly grinning in anticipation.

"Oh, it's—well, you'll find out," Rhiannon managed to say.

"Oooooh, Rhiannon's got a secret!" Heather crowed.

"Shh!" Rhiannon practically threw herself across Jojo to cover Heather's mouth.

"Get off of me," Jojo said bluntly, trying to push his sister off.

…………

All through breakfast, in between quickly snatching a bite from the bowl of oatmeal in front of her every time the chairs moved forward, Rhiannon did her best to ignore Heather's dogged insistence to find out what her secret was. Luckily, Samantha, the sister on the other side of Heather, was so engrossed in a conversation with Maryanne that no one other than Rhiannon and Jojo even heard her.

"So what are you going to do about… _your _situation?" Rhiannon asked her brother, talking loudly enough to be heard over Heather's "Tell me, Rhiannon, tell me!"

"You mean all those girls?" Jojo asked, making a face.

"Of course. And I can tell by your facial expression that the situation completely thrills and excites you."

"I'm going to tell them all to get lost," said Jojo simply. "They're annoying me."

"Come on, they like you!"

Jojo snorted. "Yeah right. They only started liking me when I became a hero."

"They're drawn to the quiet, brooding type!" Rhiannon insisted.

"If they were, they would have noticed me before," Jojo countered. "Your friend Courtney never seemed to know I existed, and now she's suddenly fluttering her eyes at me every time she sees me—and it's annoying!"

"I guess you're just irresistible!" Rhiannon said.

Jojo sighed. "Well, I wish I'd go back to being invisible again. I hate all this attention. Don't they realize I'm around girls way too much anyway?"

The bowls were empty now—breakfast was almost over, and Heather had finally made her way to her parents. "How's Heather today?" Ned asked child number ninety-five in line that day.

Heather just giggled, looking back at Jojo and Rhiannon in what must have counted for stealth for a six-year-old. Ned gave her a confused smile. "Alright, Heather, what's so funny?"

"Nothing…" said Heather innocently, still giggling. Jojo grinned, Rhiannon groaned, and Sally cleared her throat and covered her mouth to hide her own knowing smile.

"Well, you need _something _to giggle about… so how about _THIS?" _cried Ned, suddenly bombarding Heather with a surprise tickle attack. Heather shrieked with laughter.

And then the twelve seconds were up, and it was Jojo's turn. He was still smiling at what had just happened, and also at what he knew was very soon to come. "Hey, Dad," he said.

"Hey, Jojo! What's up?"

Jojo quickly pulled out a slightly modified ballpoint pen and handed it to Ned. "I made this last night. It lights up and plays music. You can keep it. I made it for you."

"Wow…" Ned was so touched, he sounded almost on the verge of tears. "Thank you, Jojo!"

The flicker of a smile flashed across Rhiannon's face for an instant as well. Jojo had done that either just because he was actually starting to talk to Dad more, or to put him in an absolutely stellar mood right before Rhiannon dropped her bomb. Possibly both. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

And then, the inevitable. The alarm rang, Jojo's twelve seconds were up, and Rhiannon suddenly found herself facing her father.

Jojo had to have placed himself next to Rhiannon on purpose, because he had certainly put Ned in the most tip-top of moods. "Ah, Rhiannon! Last but definitely not least!" he said with a smile.

Rhiannon took a deep breath, smiled, and said, in the steadiest voice she could manage, "I have a date with Ryan Stone tonight!"

"Aw, isn't that nice—you _WHAT?"_

An unprecedented event in the McDodd-O'Malley household happened right then—the entire room fell completely silent, save for the gasp of all of Rhiannon's sisters, who somehow heard the confession of her juicy secret over their chattering. Scores of eyes stared at their sister in shock; and even Jojo, Zaneeta, Faye, Virginia, and Alison, all who already knew, were watching the scene unfold with amusement.

"Rhiannon's got a _boyfriend!" _Heather finally shouted in triumph, breaking the silence.

This was enough to break all of her sisters out in excited jabbering as well, but Ned was still frozen to his seat, a look of total numb disbelief on his face. "Uh, Rhiannon… we need to talk… you, me… oh, and your mother… yes, the three of us…"

Rhiannon moaned. "Oh great…"

"Don't worry, sweetie," said Sally reassuringly. "I'll back you up."

"Good to kno—ACK!" Rhiannon's sentence was cut short by Ned suddenly pulling her out of her seat and leading her out into the hallway. "Mom, a little help here!"

Once Ned had led Rhiannon into the silence of the hallway (with Sally quickly following them), he said, in a hushed and worried voice, "Please tell me that when you said you had a date, by date you meant 'an oblong yellowish fruit'."

"No, Dad, by date I meant 'a scheduled social outing with a boy'."

"That's impossible! You're too young!"

"I'm thirteen, Dad!"

"It's not too young," Sally interjected on Rhiannon's behalf. "My first date was when I was thirteen."

Ned groaned. "Why can't you wait until a reasonable age to start dating, like I did?"

"Why, how old were you?" Rhiannon asked.

"Twenty-one!"

Sally blinked. "Your first date with me was your first date _ever?_ Funny, I never knew that…"

"Dad," said Rhiannon quickly, trying desperately to explain and defend herself, "it's just a date to the dance-off and hotdog eating competition tonight. There will be lots of other kids my age there, and a lot of adults there too—heck, _you're _going to be there doing mayoral duties, right? Nothing crazy's going to happen between us! I only really like him as a friend!" She bit her lip. "Well… okay, maybe a little more than a friend…"

"It's pretty much the ideal place for a first date, Ned," said Sally logically. "And besides, she's certainly old enough."

"And we're just going to dance, and maybe eat hotdogs," Rhiannon continued. "Hopefully not slow-dance."

"What did you say this kid's name is again?" Ned asked.

"Ryan Stone. He's a friend of ours—of mine and Jojo, Zaneeta, Faye, and Virginia's, I mean. He's—"

"He's not going to try to lead you into any dark, empty rooms, is he?"

Rhiannon gasped. "Dad! Come on! He's the most bashful kid you'll ever meet! _I'm _the one who had to ask _him _to the dance—he never would've had the guts to ask me himself!"

"I'm just looking out for your well-being!" Ned cried, looking almost sick with worry. "This is serious, Rhiannon, and don't laugh this off—you'd better wait until you're married and ready to have kids before you even _think _about—"

Rhiannon shrieked in embarrassment, covering her mouth with her hands. _"Dad! _Oh my gosh, stop embarrassing me! I'm only thirteen, that's the _last _thing on my mind! Okay, maybe not the last—but _still!"_

"But still indeed!" cried Ned. "This is serious—your genetics are working against you—just look at your mother's track record! You'll think you can have one night of some unrestrained fun—and two weeks later you'll suddenly have ten kids!"

"Hate to say it, but he _does _have a point there, Rhiannon," said Sally thoughtfully. "Large birth numbers are genetic."

"I can't believe you guys are having this talk with me," moaned Rhiannon, covering her face with her hands, so embarrassed her whole aquamarine-furred body was turning an alarming shade of red. "I can't believe you're embarrassing me like this…"

"It could be worse," Sally reminded her. "We could be telling you all this in front of Ryan."

Rhiannon pulled her hands away from her face, pointing an accusing finger at her father. "Promise me you won't embarrass me in front of him tonight! Promise me you'll leave me alone!"

Ned sighed helplessly. "Rhiannon, sweetie… I just don't want anything bad to happen to you…"

"Nothing will, Dad," said Rhiannon slowly. "Trust me. Ryan's really nice and has a crush on me… he wouldn't do anything bad to me," she said, blushing a little. "And we'll be surrounded by other Whos. So please, just… just don't worry about me, alright? Don't do anything that might ruin my first date. I know you just want me to be alright, but I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself."

Ned sighed as he looked at her… nearly his height, with an intelligent sparkle in her eyes, her baby fat nearly completely shed off to reveal the glimmer of the beautiful, poised, confident young woman she was sure to grow up into.

"You're right," he murmured. "But that doesn't mean I'll ever stop worrying about you."

"We trust you to make good choices, sweetie," Sally added softly. "And we know that you'll be in a safe place. But sometimes… sometimes bad things can happen anyway. And even if you know the right thing to do, your emotions can pull you in another direction."

"I'm not going to let my emotions pull me anywhere, Mom," Rhiannon reassured her. "I don't even have a crush on him. Well, not _exactly._ Anyway, all I want to do is go to the dance and have a good time, alright? And I wanted a date to go with me so I didn't have to pay as much to go. I want to have a good time! A good, _clean, family-friendly _time." She looked at her parents hopefully. "Now are you finally going to accept this, or do I have to explain myself some more?"

Sally smiled at her. "You're young, you deserve to have some fun with kids your age instead of staying home and helping with your sisters all the time. And you're responsible. I trust you." She turned to her husband. "Ned?"

Ned sighed in resignation. "Alright… you can go on your… date."

Rhiannon let out a girlish squeal before she could stop herself. "Wheee! Thanks, Mom and Dad!" She threw her arms around them in a grateful hug.

"Just be careful, and don't be out too late," said Sally, returning the hug.

"And I'll be keeping an eye on you, you know!" Ned added.

"As long as you do so in a way that's not embarrassing, I'm okay with that," grinned Rhiannon.

"You'd probably better go get ready for school now," said Sally.

Rhiannon laughed. "Yep, gotta let Ryan know that he passed the first test!" She let go of her parents and half ran, half skipped into the girls' bedroom.

Ned gave an overwhelmed sigh. "She really _is _growing up, isn't she, Sally?"

Sally gave the same sigh, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Yep… thirteen years old, a teenager already, I can't believe it…"

"I feel… funny," Ned admitted. "I feel like I just cut off one of Rhiannon's strings… and gave it to this Ryan character…"

Sally chuckled. "Oh, so it's the 'I'm relinquishing the care of my daughter to her significant other' father deal? I never understood that."

"Neither did I… until now," Ned admitted.

"Rhiannon doesn't need to be taken care of," said Sally gently. "She and her birth siblings are far more responsible and self-sufficient than other kids their age, if only by being the oldest in a family of ninety-seven."

"She doesn't need to be taken care of," agreed Ned, "but… but that's what I just can't get over! I remember when she was just a tiny baby who couldn't even eat by herself!"

"I know," murmured Sally softly, leaning her face against his. "It seems like it was only yesterday…"

Ned wrapped his arms around her, and they both looked at the door to their daughters' room, sighing with the realization of how fast time really did fly.


	10. IX

Lunch that day for Jojo was, predictably, a nightmare. Actually, the whole day had been—scores of girls crowding him in the hallways, proclaiming their undying love for him, asking him which one of them he was going to take to the dance that night. At lunch, he had herded his sisters to sit at the smallest table possible, and yet girls kept pulling their chairs up to the table anyway, some even knocking Jojo's sisters out of the way… discreetly or otherwise.

"This is insane," muttered Faye. She was sitting on the floor and eating her lunch there, because three girls had literally kicked her out of her chair.

"I wish I had guys clamoring over me like this," sighed Virginia, trying to eat her lunch as best as possible with two girls sitting on top of her.

"For goodness sake, Jojo, do something!" wailed Rhiannon, having somehow been deposited _under _her seat and was now getting trampled on by squealing, lovesick, teenage girls.

"Like what?" cried Jojo pitifully, the food on his tray completely untouched, seeing as both his arms were busy trying to push girls off of him.

"Like—hey!—telling them which one you're taking to the dance tonight! Get off, this is _my _chair!" Zaneeta shrieked, in a literal battle to keep her seat.

"Or maybe you could just tell them all to _take a hike!" _shrieked Faye. "Grow a backbone and tell them how much you can't _stand _them!"

All of Jojo's fangirls collectively gasped in overly dramatic shock.

"That's not true, Jojee-poo! You love me!"

"No, you love me!" interjected another girl, abruptly kissing Jojo on the cheek. Jojo, alarmed, let out a sharp cry of disapproval.

"No, I'm the only girl for him! I'm a deep, tortured soul just like he is! We're _soul mates," _said another, with a very staged looking half-swoon.

"No, he hates all of you," snapped Faye irritably. "He said so himself."

"Is that true, Jojo?" one of the girls asked, her lower lip quivering. A frantic questioning wave of voices emerged from the rest of the girls as well.

Jojo glared at all of them, feeling his slow-burning anger finally hit the crisis point. "I'm not going to the dance," he said slowly, "and I'm not taking any of you! So get lost!"

"But—" about seven girls interjected.

"I said _GET LOST!" _Jojo roared, the strength of his voice knocking many of the girls off their feet. "Faye's right, I hate all of you! Now leave me alone!"

That finally did it. The entire hoard of girls stepped back, numb with shock, eyes wide and quivering.

This wasn't enough for Jojo. "Didn't you hear me? _GET LOST! _All of you! Now!"

Finally they began to slowly shuffle away, many sniffling back tears. Zaneeta, Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia all exchanged looks, ranging from satisfied (Faye's expression) to shocked and appalled (Virginia's).

Courtney lingered the longest, angry tears running down her face. "You know, Jojo," she choked out vengefully, "I actually thought you were nice. I know you won't believe me, but I did even before you saved Who-ville. But wow, boy was I wrong."

"Yeah, you were," said Jojo simply and curtly.

Courtney spun her head around and stormed off, trembling with both anger and heartbreak.

Now it was just Jojo's sisters left at the table, who were now all looking taken aback. Even Faye's satisfaction was melting into a slightly dismayed facial expression, the full extent of her brother's rage finally settling in.

"You're a total jerk," Virginia blurted out.

"Good!" cried Jojo. "Maybe now those girls will keep away from me for good!"

"Ugh!" Virginia made a grunt of exasperation, picking up her tray and abruptly standing up from the table. "I never thought I'd say this, Jojo, but right now I'm totally ashamed to be your sister." And with that, she quickly left the table, running as best she could while holding a lunch tray to catch up with and comfort Courtney.

Faye sighed. "Oh jeez, that was all my fault. I'm sorry, Jojo. I was just so mad and so I started saying things that weren't true. You never did say that you hated them. Augh, I'm such a goober!"

"I never did say it," muttered Jojo, "but you know me so well, you were able to figure out the truth for yourself."

He looked down at his food now, shoveling it in and closing himself off to the rest of the world. Zaneeta, Rhiannon, and Faye all looked at each other worriedly, but said nothing.

Jojo was right—they did know him well—they were his birth siblings, after all. And they knew that when he was a mood like this, it was best to let him steam and cool down for a few minutes.

Only, none of them had ever seen him snap quite like _that _before.

…………

Usually Virginia walked with Jojo to their next class, life science, together. Obviously, that day Jojo figured that Virginia wasn't going to want to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary, so he didn't wait for her after lunch, instead tearing down the hallway as quickly as possible, alone. Even if she _did _want to talk to him—no doubt to reprimand him more—Jojo didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to feel guilty for how he felt… or rather, how he _didn't _feel. Obviously, he should have been feeling terrible about how he had blown up at those girls, judging by his sisters' reactions—and yet all he could feel was a calming relief—they were gone, they were _gone _and not bothering him anymore. Why did he owe them any politeness at all? Those irksome girls had it coming to them.

Which was why he was surprised—and irritated—when Virginia sprinted down the hallway to catch up with him. "Wait up!" she cried.

"What do you want?" he mumbled sullenly.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Because you're mad at me… right?"

Virginia sighed. "No, I'm not mad… very disappointed, but not mad. I guess I should have known you were due for meltdown any day now."

"I couldn't help it," sighed Jojo, "but those girls just drove me crazy. You know I hate being crowded."

"I know, which is why I'm not mad at you," said Virginia. "I explained that to Courtney, too."

She looked at him, as if waiting for a reaction. Jojo blinked. "Okay, and…?"

"I think she understands. She's—well, she's still mad, but she's trying to forgive you."

Jojo shrugged, a little confused at why Virginia was pursuing this topic of conversation, but otherwise unaffected. "Uh, okay…"

Virginia grabbed Jojo by the shoulders and stopped him in his tracks abruptly. "But you've got to apologize to her."

Jojo snorted. "What for?"

"Jojo, she really likes you, and you were overly rude to her and hurt her feelings. And yet she's still willing to give you another chance. You don't run into a Who like that just anywhere!"

Jojo groaned, knowing what this was leading to. "Virginia, stop trying to hook me up with your friend. I meant it when I said I didn't want to take anyone to the dance!"

"But you're going to take Courtney," said Virginia firmly.

"Get real."

"I am. It's an order. You're taking Courtney. I'm not going to let you be stupid and lose a girl like her!"

"I don't want to date her, Virginia! I don't want to date anyone!"

"Just take her as a friend, then! I'm doing you a favor here, if you can't figure that out—you've made about half of the student body here hate you in about five minutes. I'm not going to let you miss your chance of patching things up with _one _of them!"

"Virginia!" groaned Jojo—he was never very good at arguing, or anything that involved speech, for that matter.

"Look, I'll even pay your way for you. I'll go too, if you want—you, me, and Rhiannon, with Ryan and Courtney. It'll be fun. It doesn't even have to be a date at all, just five friends hanging out. And if you really hate it, you can leave early. But you have to at least _take _her with you, to show her that you really are a nice Who, and that I wasn't lying through my teeth when I told her that you are!"

Jojo blinked. "You told her I'm nice?"

"Of course I did," said Virginia. "Like I said, I knew that you were obviously having a bad day today. I mean, we all have those days. It doesn't make what you did okay, but you're not like this all the time."

"I thought you'd be telling her what a jerk I am," said Jojo, still surprised. "I thought you said you were ashamed to be my sister."

"I said I was ashamed to be your sister _today," _Virginia clarified, smiling a little bit. "There's a difference."

Jojo slowly smiled, although still looking astounded by Virginia's charity. "Wow… thanks," he murmured.

"If you're really, truly thankful, you know how you can show it?" said Virginia sneakily. "You can tell Courtney that you'd like to take her to the dance."

Jojo sighed in resignation. "I'll think about it, alright?"

Virginia smiled, knowing that that one statement pretty much meant "yes" from Jojo. "You do that."

…………

Lunchtime and recess in the elementary schools were free from the middle-school relationship dramas that the mayor's oldest children dealt with, but their younger sisters had their own issues to handle. Recess was, of course, supposed to be a fun play break for the kids, and for many it was… but unfortunately, for others it was a half-hour of being bullied and belittled.

Claire would have thought she was used to it by now, but she wasn't.

"I really hate recess," she admitted to her sister Pam. The two were sitting in the schoolyard sandbox, Pam constructing magnificent castles and moats, but Claire hadn't made so much as one little hill, instead sitting sullenly and tugging at Milford's trunk.

"How can you hate it?" Pam asked, making a face. "It's way better than being in class!"

"At least in class, Bailey and Sharona don't make fun of me," Claire sighed. "When there's a teacher there, they're way nicer because they don't want to get in trouble."

"If you want them to be nicer to you during recess, then just always hang out by a playground monitor," said Pam logically.

"Yeah, and look like a total loser!" Claire cried.

"So? You always _do."_

Pam and Claire both looked up in surprise—there was Bailey, the girl who was definitely a bully, but not in the traditional physical way. Perhaps it was because Bailey was a girl and not a boy, or perhaps it was just in her haughty nature, but Bailey's form of bullying was the one that scarred the soul—verbal.

"Go away, Bailey," snapped Pam. "Leave my sister alone."

Bailey hesitated—she was outnumbered, and would be even more so if their six other birth siblings got in on the act to defend their crybaby sister. "Why should I?" she finally sniffed, not able to resist taunting Claire. "Look at her! She still carries that stupid elephant around with her everywhere!"

"His name's _Milford!" _Claire protested, although curling up in growing fear.

"Who says she can't carry her elephant around with her?" Pam protested.

"Everybody who's not a moron! It makes her look like a baby!"

"I'm not a baby!" whimpered Claire.

"Oh yeah?" taunted Bailey viciously, quickly snatching Milford out of Claire's arms.

"Give him back!" Claire shrieked, sounding on the verge of tears.

"Crybaby!"

"Knock it off!" snapped Pam angrily, standing up to better face Bailey. "Give it back _now!"_

"Make me!"

Pam grabbed Bailey's arm and twisted it tightly, and Bailey shrieked in pain, although she still kept a hold of Milford.

Unsurprisingly, this schoolyard tussle had drawn the attention of many of their classmates, including Pam and Claire's birth siblings. And they were not going to take kindly to seeing their sister be mistreated so… especially not Zoe, who never needed an excuse to fight… but always welcomed any excuse anyway.

"Aw, who's the baby?" she growled at Bailey. "You're the one who won't let go of the elephant _now!" _

"I will so let go of the stupid elephant!" shouted Bailey, holding Milford over her head, swinging him in the air a few times—

"No, don't!" shrieked Claire.

—and flung him into the pond that lay just beyond the school property.

"Alright, now you've asked for it!" growled Pam, flinging herself at Bailey. Her sister Becca was quick to follow. The two girls, in a dive, pinned Bailey to the ground… and Zoe was right behind them.

"Take _this!" _she hollered, swinging punch after punch on Bailey's chest.

Claire, meanwhile, had sprinted after her tossed toy, and had in fact ran straight into the lake, far enough so that she was completely underwater. Her remaining birth siblings—Hailey, Annie, Betty, and Winnie—all ran after her, screaming, "No, Claire, stop!"

Because Claire couldn't swim, after all—and while she had quickly found Milford, floating right above her, she couldn't reach the surface—she couldn't breathe! She couldn't—

And suddenly she was hoisted up to the surface, Hailey pulling her up by one arm and Betty by the other. Neither of them had ever learned to swim either, yet they were still somehow instinctively doggy-paddling to keep their sister afloat and breathing. "Hurry up, hurry up, bring her back!" Annie and Winnie cried, nearly sobbing, standing on the bank.

This, then, was the scene that the principal came rushing out of the school building to find—Hailey and Betty bravely hoisting Claire out of the water, Annie and Winnie sobbing with relief and hugging their rescued sister, and Pam and Becca still pinning Bailey to the ground while Zoe flung punch after punch to her chest—and now face as well.

"_STOOOOOP!" _the principal screeched.

…………

Ten minutes later, five nine-year-old girls were in the principal's office, all looking forlorn, but for different reasons.

Claire, still damp and shivering, was huddled up in a blanket, sobbing despite her best efforts. As for the other four, they were all getting lectured by their mothers, who had been called in as soon as possible.

"I've really had it about up to here with you, Zoe," Sally admonished her daughter, who was staring sullenly at the floor, not daring to look her mother in the eye. "It seems like every day I hear that you've been bullying someone at school—"

"But Bailey started it!" Becca protested.

"I don't care who started it. It's _never _okay to hit someone! I thought you'd have known that by now." She glared sternly at Zoe, Becca, and Pam. "The three of you are all grounded until further notice… and trust me, that's not going to come for a very long time."

Pam and Becca joined Zoe in staring down at the floor in shame.

Meanwhile, Bailey's mother was also reprimanding her troublesome child. "How would you like it if someone threw your favorite toy into the lake?" she asked.

"Aw, come on, Mom, I just—"

"You just nothing! Now go and apologize to Claire."

Bailey gave a moan of irritation, but apparently knew better than to argue with her mother. She looked across the room to Claire, still shivering and sobbing under her blanket. "Sorry," she mumbled inaudibly.

"It's… it's okay," whimpered Claire.

"Becca, Pam, Zoe—apologize to Bailey," Sally demanded.

Zoe looked up in protest. "But—"

"No buts! You attacked her and hurt her badly, and the very least you owe her is an apology. Apologize right now or you'll be grounded even longer!"

"Sorry," the three girls mumbled, non-convincingly.

The principal sighed. "That's the best we're going to get out of any of them right now, so it'll have to do," she said. "Now, the four of you are going to also be staying after school for the rest of the school year."

"What?" cried Becca in dismay. "But that's—"

"It's only a week," said Pam.

"But still, that sucks!" whined Bailey. "Do I have to? My chest hurts too bad!"

"Yes, all four of you have to," said the principal sternly. "We have to do something about your bullying behavior." He turned to the fifth child in the room, the first victim. "As for Claire—"

The school nurse stepped forward. "As for Claire, she's running a temperature. The lake's still very chilly, and I'm afraid she might have caught a cold when she submerged. You'd better take her home with you, Ms. O'Malley."

Sally nodded. "Alright. Come on, Claire, we'd better get going. Your grandma can only handle your youngest sisters alone for so long."

Claire sniffled, nodded, and stood up slowly, fiercely holding a wet and dirty Milford close to her body.

Becca, Pam, and Zoe all quickly averted their eyes back down to the floor when their mother walked by them, although they could still feel her glower at them. "We'll be talking about this more when you get home," she said sternly.

"We have detention, we'll be late," Pam mumbled.

"You certainly will be, but don't think I'm done with you yet." And with that, she took Claire by the hand and led her out of the office and outside.

"It's cold," Claire whimpered, her teeth chattering. She had left the blanket in the office, seeing as it was the nurse's and not hers.

"Here, sweetie." Sally put an arm around her shoulders as she walked her down the schoolyard and on their way back home. "When we get home I'll give you a nice warm bath."

"Milford too?" Claire asked hopefully.

Sally smiled softly. "Yes… Milford too."

Poor Claire. Her attachment to Milford was… well, in a way understandable and even normal. What kid didn't have a favorite stuffed animal? But Claire was nine years old, far past the age of bringing security toys to school and crying when parted with them. Sally wasn't about to rush any of her children into "growing up" before they were good and ready, but Claire's abnormal behavior concerning that elephant certainly singled her out for bullying, as today's incident had made crystal clear.

"I'm sorry you had to leave home, Mommy," she said sadly, still sniffling back tears. "This wouldn't have happened if I weren't such a big baby."

"You don't look like a big baby to me," said Sally. "You look like a very intelligent and kind-hearted nine-year-old girl. And it's not your fault that you were bullied. It's good for us grown-ups to find out about it, so we can help put a stop to it."

"But you had to leave all the youngest girls and come take me home and take care of _me—"_

"Oh, come on, I almost welcome the break," said Sally. "I would have preferred it if it was a break that didn't involve having to dish out punishment to your sisters, of course…"

"But—ah… ah… ah-_choo!" _Claire sniffled again, but this time it was from her weak sneeze rather than from crying. "But I'm sick and you're going to have to give me a bath and give me medicine when all my little sisters need you more!"

"Hey now," laughed Sally, "I can manage thirty-seven girls all under the age of six all by myself on a normal day. Adding just one more older girl isn't going to completely throw me off! Besides," she added with a knowing smile, "your grandma probably won't mind staying and helping with your little sisters."

"Really?" said Claire hopefully.

"Really."

Claire finally smiled. "I hope she brought candy. Grandma always brings the best candy!"

"Oh, of course, candy! That's just the thing you need to curb your fever!" said Sally, playfully sarcastic, and affectionately squeezing Claire's shoulder.

Claire sniffled again, but she also giggled softly.

…………

At the end of the school day, Jojo ran as fast as his short legs could carry him down the hallways, hoping to catch Courtney at her locker before she left. He still had no real desire to take her—or anyone—to the dance, but he had a feeling Virginia would probably kill him if he didn't. Or, if she didn't kill him, be very disappointed in him… and Jojo couldn't stand the feeling of letting someone down.

_Although lord knows I've done it so often, I should be used to it by now, _he thought as he rounded a corner and nearly slid and fell. But he managed to keep his balance, and good thing, too, because this was the hallway where Courtney's locker was, and she was thankfully still there, putting her books away for the weekend.

"Hey!" he blurted out. Courtney turned and looked at him quizzically, and still a little bitterly.

"What?" she asked.

Jojo took in a deep breath… and said nothing. Because he didn't know what to say to her. Apologize? That was what Virginia had told him to do, but he still felt he had nothing to apologize for. What should he say—"Sorry you've learned what the real me is like, guess you don't like me anymore, huh? Thank goodness!"

"I don't hate you," he finally said abruptly.

This made Courtney, if anything, even more confused. _"What?" _she asked again.

"I—I don't hate you," Jojo repeated awkwardly. "I mean, I don't really like you either, but I don't hate you like I said at lunch."

"Oh…" A small smile began to creep up on Courtney's face, as she began to realize that Jojo was attempting to apologize to her. "Uh, thanks?"

"I actually think you're annoying," said Jojo tactlessly. "But I don't hate you."

"Well, that's a step, I guess," said Courtney, blushing a bit as her smile grew larger.

Jojo sighed inwardly. _Oh, great, she'd better not go lovesick on me again. _"Um, anyway… Virginia's making me take you to the dance tonight."

Courtney's smile was still there, but it had morphed into a confused one. "What?" she asked for the third time.

"You're—you're going to the dance with me tonight," said Jojo. "I don't really want to go, and I don't want to go with anyone, but Virginia told me I have to take you. So… so you're going with me."

Courtney almost fell against her locker, a look of total astonishment on her face. "Oh my gosh, he's actually asking me out," she said in disbelief, but still smiling in wonderment, not even looking at Jojo anymore. "I think he's actually trying to ask me out."

"I'm not asking you out!" Jojo protested. "I'm saying that you're going to the dance with me so Virginia won't be mad at me, alright?"

"It's really happening…" Courtney continued, still talking to her locker. "It's not the conventional way of doing it, but the one and only Jojo McDodd has just asked me out to the dance!"

"I'm not _asking _you! I'm _telling _you!" cried Jojo in frustration. "You're going with me, and that's final! Stop smiling like that… this doesn't mean _anything," _he growled. "I don't like you, remember? And you don't like me either, I thought. I mean, you don't like me _anymore."_

"Oh, I could never stop liking you!" sighed Courtney dreamily.

Jojo rolled his eyes. "You suddenly started liking me without warning, so I'm sure you could stop liking me just as fast."

"I've always liked you, Jojo!" Courtney protested. "I mean, I'll admit I haven't liked you…" She blushed furiously. "I haven't liked you like… like _this _for very long. But I always thought you seemed pretty cool."

"You never talked to me," said Jojo.

"Because you never talked to anyone—and I figured you just don't like to talk!"

Jojo blinked. "Well… well, I _don't…"_

"And then when you saved Who-ville, and all these girls were crowding around you… I don't know, I got a little possessive. I saw you first, after all. Well, not in a _like-_like way," she added quickly, "but at least I knew who you were before anyone else did!"

Jojo raised an eyebrow, his expression softening in slow recognition. Courtney was still annoying, true, and Jojo wasn't sure if he could put up with her for more than two seconds. But there was more to her than what met the eye. Maybe she could, given time, become somewhat… tolerable.

Courtney smiled. "So what time are you picking me up at my house tonight?"

"Uh…" Jojo frantically thought back to yesterday, when Rhiannon had landed Ryan as a date. "Uh… 6:30?"

"Alright… see you then." She smiled sweetly at him, closed her locker, and ambled down the hallway.

Ambled, then walked. Then power-walked. Then ran. Then sprinted, leaping into the air. _**"WOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOOO!" **_she finally let herself shriek for joy.

Jojo moaned. _Virginia, what have you gotten me into?_


	11. X

The duties of running that night's Who Centennial event had kept Ned so busy that day, he hadn't even had a chance to go home. As much as he wanted to, of course. Sally had called him and told him about Becca, Pam, and Zoe getting into a fight at school and Claire being bullied, running into the pond, and catching a nasty cold from it, and his thoughts kept drifting back to those four girls, wishing he could be with them rather than acting as master of ceremonies for a hotdog eating competition. He, of course, wanted to check up on Claire and make sure she was alright, but he also wanted to comfort the other three troublemakers. True, so they had been bullies themselves… but he was sure they were feeling remorse for their actions right now, and he wanted to cheer them up. He was allowed to spoil his daughters; he wasn't the parent who dispensed discipline, after all. Thank goodness.

As all the coordinators blabbed on with him about procedures and schedules for the night and such, Ned only half listened, the other half of him reminding himself, _Sally can handle it, and she has JZRFV there to help her out… wait… no, she'll only have JZFV. Because Rhiannon and her—shudder—boyfriend are going to be HERE._

"Mr. Mayor, are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" a coordinator asked testily.

Ned quickly shook himself out of his thoughts. "Yeah, yeah, every word… but if you'll excuse me, I have to go find Rhiannon…" He took off without another glance.

The coordinators looked at each other in confusion. "Who's Rhiannon?"

Ned pushed his way through the crowd of Whos, looking frantically for the bright blue of Rhiannon's hair and the… well, whatever color Ryan's hair was. This would be so much easier if he knew what Ryan looked like. _Oh please, oh please let him look clean-cut and respectable, and not like some insolent punk…_

Finally, he spotted her. "Rhiannon!" he shouted.

Rhiannon looked in surprise. "Oh, hey Dad," she said, in a level tone, that clearly to all but Ned communicated that she wanted to be seen with her dad as little as possible that night.

"Hello, Mr. Mayor," said the boy next to her timidly—that must be Ryan. Ned felt a bit relieved upon seeing that Ryan was, indeed, shy and presentable.

"Hi, Dad!" said Virginia.

Ned looked shocked. "Virginia? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come!" said Virginia happily. "I love Sex Drugs and Muffins! Besides, I thought I'd keep Rhiannon and Ryan company."

"But… do _you _have a… _boy?" _he finally asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Ryan gulped.

Virginia shook her head. "Nope. I'm just here for fun."

"And we're not?" Rhiannon asked sarcastically.

Ned turned his attentions to Ryan, who seemed to have shrunk three inches from nervousness. "So… so you must be Ryan," said Ned, trying to sound cordial and friendly.

Ryan nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Well, you certainly seem like a nice kid already." He gave Ryan a reproachful look. "But if my first impression of you turns out to be wrong…"

"I swear, I won't even touch her!" Ryan cried.

Rhiannon pouted. "Where's the fun in that? Dad, stop creeping out my date. I'll be fine."

"I'll keep an eye on them," said Virginia to her father with a knowing wink.

"You really should be at home helping your mother," said Ned, although inwardly relieved by her presence—now it seemed far less of a date and far more of a gathering of friends.

"Mom'll be fine," said Rhiannon with a dismissive wave of her hands. "Come on, Dad, we're teenagers, we've gotta have some fun!"

"And hopefully you will," said Ned with a smile. "We've got a lot of fun activities planned for tonight—"

A coordinator suddenly grabbed Ned by the arm and attempted to pull him away. "Mr. Mayor, we've been looking all over for you! You need to do a final inspection of the hotdogs!"

"Right!" said Ned hastily. "Alright, kids, have fun! I'll be keeping an eye on you!" He had to shout as the coordinator was literally dragging him away.

"Bye, Dad! Good luck!" said Virginia.

"And please don't embarrass me!" Rhiannon added.

The coordinator of the hotdog eating competition laughed to herself. "Ah, kids. When are they going to learn that it's a parent's duty in life to embarrass their children whenever possible?"

"Are your kids here?" Ned asked, trying to make conversation as the woman weaved him through the crowd at lightning speed.

"Yeah, my three fifteen-year-olds are around here somewhere with their friends. Ah, here we are!"

"You certainly wasted no time," said Ned, a bit frazzled from his rapid journey.

"There's no time to waste, these hotdogs need to be inspected before the ceremonies start—which is in ten minutes!"

A girl about the age of JZRFV peered over at the hotdogs. "Mm, they look so good!" she said, licking her lips. "Don't you think so, Jojo?"

Jojo sighed. "I… don't like hotdogs very much," he mumbled.

Ned chuckled. "Well then, son, you'd better not sign up for the competi—_**Jojo?!" **_So great was his shock that he upset the judging table, sending the ketchup and mustard containers flying in all directions. "What are _you _doing here?!"

Courtney stepped forward and shook Ned's hand enthusiastically. "Hello, Mr. Mayor, it's nice to meet you! My name's Courtney Van Horn. I'm Jojo's date."

"Date?!" Ned looked at Jojo with a mixture of confusion and frustration, oblivious to the cries of distress of the nearby Whos who were now covered in condiments. "Why didn't you tell me this, Jojo?"

Jojo flung out his arms defensively. "Hey, I didn't even know I was taking her until about 3:15 this afternoon!"

"I'll admit, it wasn't the most conventional way of asking a girl out…" said Courtney, still smiling like a love-sick puppy.

"Virginia made me," said Jojo, still on the defensive. "Just ask her. She'll tell you everything."

"Virginia made you?" Ned repeated. "Why didn't she mention that to me?"

"Where is she?" Jojo asked, looking around. "She's with Rhiannon and Ryan, right?"

"Yes, at least the last time I saw—"

"There they are!" Courtney interrupted. "Come on, Jojo, let's go!" She held him by the wrist and started to pull him away, Jojo not putting up much of a fight.

"Wait a minute! Jojo!" cried Ned, stopping the two young teens. He gently pulled Jojo closer to him. "Listen, Jojo," he said quietly, as if trying to stay unheard by Courtney, "make sure you don't… you know… get carried away…"

Courtney, who was indeed listening, let out an embarrassed giggle, knowing exactly what Ned was talking about. Jojo also seemed to know that he was getting a condensed version of the talk Rhiannon had received that morning (Rhiannon had, of course, spouted out her utter embarrassment to her birth siblings), for his cheeks started to flush with mortification as he fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Dad, I don't even really _like _her," he said, almost pleadingly, clearly not wanting to hear any more of where this conversation would probably lead.

"I just want you to be careful, alright?" Ned insisted. "I mean, she's pretty, and she seems nice, and your emotions… well, they can get the better of you if you're not careful!"

"My only emotion for her is annoyance!" cried Jojo. "Besides, I'm only—"

"—Thirteen, yes, I know," finished Ned with a sigh. "Just… just give me an allowance to be a little touchy on this subject, alright? I know, I know I can trust you, but I'm your father, I'm paranoid…"

"You don't have to be. Really." Jojo tried to hide his look of annoyance with understanding. "Now will you let us go?"

Ned sighed with a bittersweet acceptance, a little tally in his mind checking off cutting the strings off child number two. "Alright. You two go have fun. Or chill. Or hang. Or whatever it is you kids do nowadays."

"We will!" said Courtney cheerfully, grabbing Jojo by the wrist again and pulling him away. "Thanks, Mr. Mayor! It was nice meeting you!" And away she weaved into the crowd, Jojo giving an apologetic shrug as his departing gesture to his father.

"Zaneeta and Faye are still home, right?" Ned shouted. "Or are they going to suddenly show up too?"

"They're not coming, I promise!" Jojo hollered. "They're with Mom!"

"You're sure?" Ned had to really yell this time to be heard above the crowd of people as Courtney continued to weave through them—in fact, the only reason he knew where the kids were was because he could still see Courtney's tall pink hair stick above the crowd.

"_**Positive!" **_Dang. Jojo might not speak much, Ned reflected to himself, but he could sure be heard when he wanted to.

"Alright!" Ned shouted. "Have fun on… your… date…"

Date. Yeah, date. Why couldn't he accept the fact that two of his five oldest children, in the span of about one day, had suddenly found themselves _dates? _It's not like they were too young for that—they were thirteen after all, teenagers… and Ned probably would have been dating at that time in his life too, had it taken him less than two years to work up the courage to ask Sally out on a date. But, of course, the day he finally, finally, worked up enough nerve to ask her out… Stuart Shepherd beat him to it.

They dated all through high school. Seeing as most high school relationships lasted about two weeks, Ned took this as a sign that they were pretty danged serious, and miserably conceded defeat… dealing with this blow by avoiding seeing them whenever possible. He didn't run into her again until a few years after graduation, and when he learned that she had finally broken up with Stuart, he took his chance before she slipped past him again. To his surprise, she accepted. To his even grater surprise, he learned soon after that Sally had actually had a crush on him for _years…_

What would high school have been like if they had actually become a couple _then?_ If they had, perhaps his awkward, hellish teenage years would have been somewhat… _happy! _

Or, if he could have just _known _then that, although he couldn't have her then, he'd at least have her later. It would have made the waiting easier, knowing that he actually _was _waiting and not just pining for a lost chance.

"Mr. Mayor, the ceremonies are about to begin and you have to get prepared to give your commencement speech!"

Ned snapped out of his daydreaming. "Huh?" he asked in confusion.

The coordinator who had brought Ned back to reality didn't bother to try hiding his annoyance. "You know, welcoming everyone here and kicking off the hotdog eating competition?"

"Oh yeah, right," said Ned quickly.

He could dwell on the past later. True, it didn't do any good… but it was just one of those things that his mind wouldn't allow him to let go.


	12. XI

Ned had taken the next day, Saturday, off from work, knowing that the stress of running the ceremonies the night before would completely wear him out and render him rather useless at work weeks in advance. It had turned out to be a good choice, too, giving Ned the perfect opportunity to spend time with Becca, Pam, and Zoe, all three sitting glumly in the corner of the girls' massive bedroom, sulking.

"It's not fair that we got grounded," Becca mumbled in protest.

"And it's a totally unfair punishment," Pam said angrily. "I think we're grounded until we're eighteen, and all we did—"

"All we did was defend our sister!" Zoe blurted out, enraged. "We're not just going to sit back and let that bitch—"

"_Zoe! _Watch your language, young lady!" Ned cried, aghast that his relatively young daughter had picked up that kind of language at such an early age.

"I mean, that girl, treat our birth sibling like that! What would you have done, Dad?" Zoe demanded.

"He's not the one to ask, he won't understand," Becca said. "He's only got one—"

"Girls, wait, I do understand, but let me be a responsible parent for a moment and explain—"

"Oh, great," sighed Zoe.

"Bailey totally deserved what we did to her!" Pam cried.

"That's what I'm trying to explain to you," said Ned quickly. "Two wrongs don't make a right. It's really honorable of you to defend your sister like that, but it doesn't make things right or better."

"But she deserved it!" Becca protested.

"She's a huge bully! She had it coming!" Zoe added.

"You're not listening!" Ned said. "Look, let's say that someone once treated Bailey wrong when she was younger. Maybe that made her retaliate against the person who did that to her, and she felt good about it, so she lashes out at other people next!"

"That's not right," said Zoe stubbornly. "It's not an excuse."

"But don't you see? If you three aren't careful, you'll do the exact same thing," said Ned. "Bailey is mean to Claire, so you dish out what you think she deserves. It makes you feel good to have righted a wrong, so you'll do it more often, without thinking about the consequences, without taking the time to make sure that you're right. They'll feel slighted, and so they'll take out their anger on either you or someone else… you see where this is going, right?"

"But people need to know when they've done something wrong!" Zoe protested.

"But… but that'll make _everyone _turn into a bully," said Becca slowly.

"Exactly," said Ned. "And it doesn't fix anything. Everyone will still be bullying everyone else."

"But what were we supposed to do, then?" Pam asked. "Just let her treat Claire that way? Bailey's a total jerk, Dad, if you only knew her…"

"I can imagine, Pam," said Ned. "I've known lots of jerks in my time. And treating them the way they deserve to be treated doesn't fix the problem. It just makes them angrier, because they _don't _think they're jerks and don't think they deserve to be treated that way."

"But she was being mean to our sister…" Zoe's voice faltered, slowly realizing that she wasn't going to win this argument.

"Then you should have let your teachers know about it. They know how to deal with bullying." Ned gave them as stern a look as he could muster. "But now all _four_ of you have to be punished."

"I hate being grounded," muttered Pam.

"Me too," sighed Becca, "and now I feel really bad for fighting her."

"I don't," said Zoe stubbornly. Ned looked at her sternly and Zoe fidgeted a bit. "Well, not very much."

"You really think we're going to turn into bullies like Bailey?" Becca asked her father in worry.

"No, of course not, sweetie," said Ned quickly, squeezing her shoulder. "Now that I've had this talk with you, I know you'll think about your actions before going through with them. Right?"

"Right, Dad," the three girls chorused automatically.

"So what are you girls grounded from?" Ned asked. "TV, desert, what?"

"Everything except eating and breathing, I think," groaned Pam.

"And Mom made peanut butter cookies last night!" whimpered Zoe. "And we couldn't eat them!"

"Ooh, that's harsh!" said Ned sympathetically. He leaned in close to them to whisper, "I'll tell you what… I'll see if I can find one and bring it to you later."

"Mom would kill you if she found out," said Pam.

"You can eat it in secret, right?" said Ned with a smile. "I mean, come on… _no one _deserves to miss out on a peanut butter cookie."

The three girls smiled gratefully.

"As long as you promise to remember what I just told you," said Ned, suddenly serious. "Promise you'll think about it?"

"We promise!" said Becca.

"Yes, I promise to think about how nobody deserves to miss out on a peanut butter cookie, and I'll always remember it!" said Zoe with a mischievous grin.

Ned cocked an eyebrow at her, trying to keep himself from smiling.

"No, seriously, yeah, I'll remember," said Zoe earnestly.

"Me too," said Pam.

"Me three!" said Becca.

"Alright," said Ned, letting himself smile at his daughters. "I'll get a cookie for you after I've spent some time with the rest of your siblings."

Zoe groaned. "Dad, that could take _years!"_

Ned shrugged. "Well, you _are _grounded… there has to be some sort of punishment for you, even while I'm spoiling you."

"Dad _admits _that he's spoiling us," said Pam in disbelief. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

…………

Ned flittered around the house that afternoon, playing with his daughters, reading books to them, and the like. Something was a little strange, though. Usually, the oldest kids would play with their younger sisters, taking care of them and making sure that they stayed out of trouble. But today, he couldn't find any of his children over the age of ten.

"Where are your older sisters and Jojo?" he asked Sophie, who was playing patty-cake with Giana.

Sophie let out a rather embarrassed laugh. "Oh, they're all in Jojo's room… they all wanted to hear how Jojo's and Rhiannon's dates went last night."

"Thanks," he said quickly, standing up to go to the room.

"You're not seriously going to go there too, are you?" Sophie asked. "You're going to totally embarrass them!"

"I'm your father! It's in my job description to embarrass you kids whenever possible!"

"Well, good luck," smiled Sophie, turning her attention back to her little sister. "It won't be hard. Rhiannon's been blushing all day."

Ned quickly but quietly made his way out of the girls' room and across the hall to Jojo's. The door was slightly ajar, so he discreetly leaned against it to hear the excited twittering of his oldest children.

"He seriously danced with you during the song 'You Belong to My Heart'?" Nicole squealed. "That song's _soooo _romantic!"

"His hands were clammy, though," Rhiannon protested through her blushing. "And he's not really that good of a dancer…"

"But it's the whole principle of the thing—he actually slow-danced with you!" said Rhonda excitedly.

"They looked really cute together, too," said Virginia with a knowing wink.

"Did he kiss you?" Alison demanded.

"What? No, Alison, this was only our first date and we were out in public and I swear Dad was watching us with binoculars the whole time—no, he didn't!" Rhiannon looked both appalled and embarrassed by the very question.

"That's good—who would want to get kissed, anyway?" asked Faye with a shudder. "I mean, you know what a kiss is, right? It's slobbering. Glorified slobbering over someone else's face. It's so disgusting!"

"It would have been really forward for Ryan, a total wallflower, to kiss Rhiannon—or anyone—on a first date, anyway," said Zaneeta. "That's just not who he is."

"What about you, Jojo?" Karley asked. "Did you dance with Courtney?"

"Did you kiss her?" Logan asked.

Jojo, who was keeping to himself in a corner of his room and inventing who-knows-what, looked up at his sisters in total shock. "What? Of course not! I don't even like her!"

"But she likes you," laughed Virginia.

"She's a freak," said Jojo simply.

"Of course," laughed Maria. "Anyone who'd like you would have to be a freak." The rest of her sisters laughed while Jojo glowered in annoyance.

"Why did you guys have to talk about this in _my _room, anyway?" he muttered.

"Because our room is overflowing with little kids," said Marlene, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, well, mine is too now," said Jojo.

"Courtney was just on cloud nine all night," said Virginia, smiling at her sisters. "Jojo made her so happy."

"She's really nice, too," said Zaneeta with a wink.

"Oh, a good catch?" giggled Caroline.

"Jojo's bait is the top of the line?" said Karen through her giggles.

"The best fisherwho in the world!" cried Tonya in triumph. The girls all burst out in laughter again.

Jojo groaned to himself. "Girls are crazy."

"Oh, come on, Jojo, you have to at least like her a _little _bit, right?" Jenny asked. "I mean, if I found out someone liked me, I'd like them at least a little!"

"Sorry to burst your bubble… but no, I don't like her." Jojo hesitated for a moment, then gave a small conceding shrug. "Although I might eventually… tolerate her."

The girls all laughed again.

"That's the closest Jojo will ever get to a declaration of love!" Rhiannon cried, laughing so hard she was clutching her sides as if they pained her.

"He wants her _baaaad!" _said Rhonda.

Jojo stood up in anger. "No I don't! What part of 'I don't like her' don't you guys understand?"

"What about you, Rhiannon?" Zaneeta asked suddenly, winking at her sister. "Do you like Ryan? Like, _like _like?"

"Too many 'like's in that sentence," said Marlene.

Rhiannon blushed yet again. "Uh, well… what kind of question is this? Of course I like him! He's my friend!"

"There's a difference between 'like' and _'like' _like, and you know it," said Faye.

"Well, I don't… I don't know, I…" Rhiannon clasped her hands together and grinned excitedly. "I liked it when he touched me… when he held my hand… it felt really good, you know?"

"I could certainly tell!" Ned interjected. "I don't think you _once _let go of it!"

The room erupted into the mortified shrieks of fifteen girls realizing that their father was listening in on their conversation. Even Jojo looked a little embarrassed, but he did manage to bark out a good laugh at his sisters' expense.

Rhiannon managed to get over her embarrassment first, surprisingly… or maybe not so surprisingly, because apparently she traded it in for anger. She jumped up on Jojo's bed, grabbed a pillow, and smacked her dad in the head with it repeatedly. _"Dad! _Oh my gosh, what are you _DOING_ here?! Stop eavesdropping on us, you freak!"

"Ow! Put that pillow back, young lady!" Ned shouted in what was supposed to be his most authoritative voice. "Now come on, girls, it's my day off and I want to spend some time hanging out with you—"

"Hanging out is one thing, but eavesdropping is _totally _different!" shrieked Rhiannon, not letting up on her pillow attack.

Virginia intervened, pulling Rhiannon away from their father. "Calm down, Rhiannon! Dad was there last night, after all… and trust me, if he noticed even half of what I did, he already knows how much you like Ryan."

Rhiannon looked at her dad questioningly, and Ned smiled at her. "Come on, Rhiannon, I've been a teenager with a crush before, so I know exactly what it's like… and you have all the symptoms."

"It's… really that obvious?" Rhiannon asked, looking at the one other Who in the room who had witnessed her date from last night, Jojo.

Jojo snorted at her, as if he couldn't believe she needed his validation. "You giggled like a moron whenever he so much as _looked _at you. Duh it's obvious. You're acting just like Courtney acts around me."

"Come on, Jojo, she's not _that _bad," said Faye.

Rhiannon dropped the pillow, bringing her hands to her mouth in shocked realization. "Oh my gosh, I really _do _have a crush on him, don't I? Like, I really, _really _like him… and it feels like I've swallowed butterflies and I'm shaking and I've never felt like this before and I'm scared… but it feels _wonderful _too!"

Ned smiled, pulling Rhiannon into a warm hug. Rhiannon laughed shakily, in both embarrassment and relief, still trembling with newly-discovered emotions. "Wow Dad, you're not mad at me? You're actually okay with this?" she asked, pulling away from him.

"Why wouldn't I be?" said Ned. "Look at how happy you are! How could I be upset? You're right, it is a wonderful feeling, liking someone that way who likes you back."

"But if they don't like you back, it's totally lousy," said Tonya, "right?"

Ned gulped, a shot of pain stabbing at his heart as the high school memory of watching the girl he loved dating another guy reared its ugly head. "I can't think of anything lousier," he admitted.

Virginia looked over at Zaneeta, whose eyes had become downcast for a fraction of a second. "Hey, Zaneeta, lighten up," she said cheerfully. "You should just ask him. You never know, he might like you back."

Zaneeta jerked in surprise. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't hide it, Zaneeta," sighed Faye impatiently. "We're your birth siblings. We know these things."

Zaneeta put her hands on her hips, feigning ignorance. "I have no clue what you guys are talking about."

"You do too," said Rhiannon with a smirk. "We're talking about Ian, that's what we're talking about. You know, the Who you have the hots for."

"You guys are crazy!" cried Zaneeta. "I—I don't like him at all, no such thing…"

Jojo shook his head. "Face it, Zaneeta. We know your dirty little secret. So stop acting so innocent."

"I hate you guys," mumbled Zaneeta.

"Ian? Who's Ian?" Ned asked.

All sixteen children in the room looked at each other nervously, while Zaneeta turned, if it was possible, even redder than her hair. "He's, uh, he's Ryan and Courtney's brother…" Zaneeta began.

"Oh, that's good," said Ned. "I actually liked Ryan and Courtney—"

"But Ian's—" Karley began, then stopped herself.

"He's the bad kid," Tonya finally blurted out. "You wouldn't like him at all. He's always getting into trouble with authority."

Ned raised an eyebrow suspiciously at Zaneeta, his smile gone. "Why would you like a kid like that, Zaneeta?"

"I think I must think of him as a challenge," said Zaneeta quickly. "I want to be the one who sets him straight. You know I like dealing with tough situations… and dealing with Ian would be a tough situation! I want to… tame him." She shrugged apologetically. "I don't know, it's hard to explain, and I know it's terrible of me to… to want him like I do, but… but I do."

Ned sighed. "Well, Zaneeta, if anyone could tame him, it would be you, I'm sure, but you can't fool around with people like that…"

"Blah blah blah no hanky panky I'll get pregnant blah blah blah," Zaneeta interrupted. "You can skip the birds and the bees talk with me. Besides, I know that if I tamed him, then I'd get bored with him and not like him anymore. So it's probably best to not pursue him…"

"You don't know that for sure," Ned suddenly said, surprising himself. Why on earth was he _encouraging _Zaneeta to try this guy out? He sounded like not just a bad egg, but a terrible, rotten, stinking one! And yet… he didn't want Zaneeta to be burdened with regrets when she was older, to not have to kick herself for not taking the chance when she could have. "Look, I thought the same thing when I was your age. I had this huge crush on someone but I figured if I told her, she'd shoot me down and I'd be worse off from when I started. When I finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, someone else beat me to it. At the time, I thought, 'Oh well, it's for the best because she wouldn't have liked me anyway,' so I basically spent all of my high school years depressed and heartbroken. If I had only worked up the courage to ask her out sooner, I would have realized that she actually had a crush on me too! I suffered all those years for nothing!"

"Wow," said Logan. "What happened between you two?"

Ned laughed. "What do you think happened? We got married and had you and your sisters, that's what happened!"

"It was Mom?" said Alison with a squeal. "Oh my gosh, Dad, that's so romantic!"

"There's no way Ian would like me," Zaneeta insisted firmly. "He probably doesn't even pay any attention to me. We're from two totally different worlds!"

"If you're from two totally different worlds," said Karen mischievously, "then how come you pay so much attention to him?"

"I thought your mother was completely out of my league too," said Ned. He let out a small sigh. "To be honest, sometimes I _still _think she deserves better than what I can give her…"

"What do you mean, out of your league?" Maria asked. "You and Mom seem like you get long great!"

"You compliment each other perfectly," Marlene clarified.

"But I was the… nerd, the loser, you know what I mean?" said Ned with a bit of embarrassment, as his children all shared small smiles that signified that yes, they knew indeed. "And your mother was popular and well-liked and pretty and intelligent and kind-hearted and… everything that I wasn't," he finished with a sigh.

"Wow," said Alison softly. "You really loved her, didn't you?"

"You still _do," _said Virginia, just as softly.

Zaneeta sighed sadly. "Ian could never feel that way about me, though."

"I thought your mother could never feel that way about me either," said Ned gently. "But apparently she could…"

"Look, Dad, why are you even telling her this anyway?" Jojo piped up, apparently surprising himself by getting into the conversation. "We already told you he's the bad kid. If you knew him, you wouldn't want him with her."

"But I don't want her—or any of you—to live with regrets, either," said Ned. "And Zaneeta, I trust your judgment. If you think you can tame him, then I believe you. I'm not about to stop you if… if you want to date him." Snip snip, and there went the strings off child number three.

Zaneeta finally smiled. "Well then, Dad, since I have your blessing… then maybe I'll seek him out."

"You don't have to," Rhiannon suddenly said in realization. "I mean, I'm dating his birth sibling, right? I could ask Ryan if he thinks Ian feels anything for you."

"Boys can be really dense about those sorts of things, though," sniffed Faye.

"Then I can ask Courtney," Virginia chimed in. "If Ian likes you even a little, Zaneeta, Courtney would know."

"That would be a lot less harrowing than asking him myself," said Zaneeta with relief. "Thanks, you guys."

"Glad I could help," said Ned with a smile.

Zaneeta snorted. "Jeez, I just got relationship advice from my own dad… how pathetic is that?"

"It's not pathetic at all—I've been through this kind of stuff before, I know what I'm talking about!" said Ned with a laugh. He took a step back towards the door. "I've gotta go now…"

"Still have to spend some time with our eighty-one sisters, huh?" said Nicole with a smile.

"No, actually, I've spent time with them all today… except Claire. And I need to go check on her now." He smiled at his oldest children one more time, then quickly made his way out of their room.

"Tell Claire that we're going to be making chicken noodle soup for her tonight!" Rhiannon shouted. "That should help her with her cold!"

"Thanks! I will!"

…………

Before going back to the girls' room, Ned stopped by the kitchen, stealthily pulling out two peanut butter cookies from the cookie jar. Leah and Kim were in the room, playing with play-dough, but were so caught up in it that they didn't seem to notice Ned was even there at all. There didn't seem to be any risk of the two two-year-olds tattling to their mother, luckily enough. He went into the girls' room and found Becca, Pam, and Zoe still sitting glumly in the corner. Dividing the cookie as best he could into three equal parts, he handed each girl a piece, who all smiled their appreciation. Then, he finally made his way up the wall of the huge room to Claire's bed, the other cookie for her.

Claire was lying limply in bed, awake and clearly not wanting to be so. She smiled upon seeing her father, however. "Hi, Daddy!" she said, her voice hoarse.

"Hey, sweetie," smiled Ned, pressing his hand to her forehead. Her fever still hadn't broken yet, poor thing. "I brought you a cookie."

"Thank you," said Claire, taking it from him and biting into it.

"How are you feeling?"

"Not very good," Claire admitted. "I keep coughing and sneezing and my head really hurts. And my sisters are noisy and keeping me awake…"

"I'll tell them to be quiet," Ned promised. "Once you get a good nap in, you'll be feeling a lot better. You're at the worst of it right now. You'll feel better really soon, I promise."

"I just want to sleep," Claire murmured, sniffling from her cold. "Daddy, could you…"

"Could I what?"

"Could you read me a story?" Claire asked hopefully. "I know I'm a little old for that, but it might help me sleep…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ned asked with a playful wink. "Are you saying I'm a boring storyteller?"

Claire giggled. "No, silly! I mean it'll make me feel better!"

"Oh, well, when you put it that way…" Ned ruffled her mint-green hair fondly. "What story should I read to you? The Cat in the Hat?"

Claire made a face. "Dr. Seuss? Don't you think I'm a little old for him?"

"Nobody's ever too old for Dr. Seuss! Just like nobody's ever too old to hear a bedtime story!"

"Even though it's not bedtime. It's, like, two in the afternoon."

"And that's your bedtime when you're sick," said Ned, smiling. "Now come on, tell me, what do you want to hear?"

"Maybe you could just tell me a story instead of reading one." Claire smiled. "Tell me what happened the day I was born."

"Now that's a story," laughed Ned. "Your mom started having her contractions at three in the morning. I had had a really long day at work before then, so I was only half-awake and trying to get her to the hospital. It… took me awhile to find it," he finally said, not really wanting to admit to his nine-year-old daughter that he had led her mother into two bars and a brothel that night, seeing as they were the only buildings open. "So long, in fact, that once I finally found it, your sister Becca was just so anxious to get out of your mother that she popped out right when I opened the door. Your mother wasn't even in a hospital bed yet or anything!"

"Jeez!" Claire cried in shock. "What did you do?"

"I somehow managed to scoop Becca off the floor and try to help your mother to a birthing room, but then Hailey came out…"

Claire laughed, imagining the scene.

"And by that time, your mother just shouted, 'Forget this, just get me on one of those couches!' We were in the waiting room, luckily, so I just kind of pushed her on the couch, right as Pam came out. Somehow I managed to catch her, since I was still holding Becca."

"What about Hailey?"

"She was still on the floor, I guess," said Ned with an embarrassed shrug. "Someone might have picked her up by that time, though, now that I think about it. Luckily there were some hospital employees there that helped handle all you girls and called for assistance. So someone had Hailey off the floor by that time, I'm sure. And then—" He pinched her nose fondly. "And then you were born!"

"Did you catch me?" Claire asked.

"I tried, but I was so tired… I dropped you," Ned admitted. "But like I said, there was someone there to help pick you up… and you know, I think he was holding Hailey too. We both handed you four off to some nurses who had luckily arrived, and I was able to catch your other four birth siblings as they came out, with no problem." He laughed. "I was too tired at the time to realize what a mess the whole process had been—and how _worse _it could have been. We were lucky we got help so fast and that there were no complications."

Claire smiled, nestling her head into her pillow and pulling Milford close to her. "Thanks for the story, Daddy, it was funny."

"And completely true, I assure you," said Ned.

Claire's smile faded. "Daddy?"

"What is it, sweetie?"

"Do you remember, before Edna, Cassie, Eve, Heart, Brianna, Candace, Vanessa, and Heddie were born, how we both had a glass of milk in the middle of the night?"

"Of course I do."

"You told me that if you ever saw an elephant, I'd be the first to know. But I wasn't the first person to know about Horton."

"Oh!" Ned felt a pang of guilt—he had completely forgotten about that promise, probably because when he made it, he hadn't expected on ever having to follow through on it. The possibility of elephants actually existing somewhere—even somewhere in the atmosphere—was just too ridiculous. But still, he made it a point to keep his promises, especially to his children, and realizing that he had failed to uphold one made him feel completely lousy. "Claire, I had a lot on my mind when I met Horton, you know, because he told me that our world was on the verge of destruction and all that… and besides," he said in sudden realization, "I never did _see _him. I only _heard _him. But I promise that if I ever actually _see _him, you'll be the first to know."

"Oh." Claire smiled faintly. "Have you talked to him since then?"

Ned shook his head sadly. "No. I'm sure he's very busy, doing… doing whatever it is elephants do."

"Well, if you talk to him again, tell him I said hi. And tell him Milford says hi, too." She closed her eyes sleepily. "Thanks for the story, Daddy."

"You're welcome, Claire." Ned kissed her softly on her cheek, which was also hot with fever. "You go to sleep now. You'll feel better. And if you're awake for supper, Rhiannon told me to tell you that we're having chicken noodle soup. That will help with your cold."

"Tell her thanks," murmured Claire sleepily. "Goodnight." She smiled again, cracking one eye open. "Or I guess good afternoon."

Ned laughed, fondly stroking her hair back. "Good afternoon, sweetheart."


	13. XII

That night, Ned woke up drenched in sweat, nightmares invading his sleep. His mind seemed dead set on replaying the day his father died and he had been forced into that ridiculous mayoral ritual, but the dream had, in the way dreams often do, made the memory far more grotesque. The corpse of his father was in the room, watching and criticizing Ned's every move, so much that Ned lost control of the watermelons he was juggling and dropped them, watermelon juices flying everywhere, splattering the body of his father and mixing in with the blood he had coughed up.

Now awake, Ned rubbed his face in anguish, breathing heavily. He hadn't seen his father's last moments alive, and part of him was glad about it—they said that Whos who died of Yorgishmeyer disease spent the last few hours of their lives in a kind of coma, their only movements being coughing up blood until the pain of breathing was just too much to handle and they stopped entirely. It was such a rare disease that doctors still didn't know what exactly caused it…

Ned's eyes grew wide.

And then, he quickly—and noisily—rose from the bed, almost sprinting for the door.

This sudden activity roused Sally. "Ned? What is it?" she murmured, still mostly asleep.

"Nothing, dear, nothing… I'm just going to go check on Claire," Ned said.

Sally glanced at the clock and groaned softly. "At four in the morning?"

Ned took in a deep breath. "Sally, I know I'm being ridiculously paranoid right now, but Claire has a cold, and colds can develop into Yorgishmeyer disease, which is almost always fatal—and that's what killed my father!"

"But colds only develop into Yorgishmeyer disease once every eight million, four hundred sixty-eight thousand, seven hundred and two times," mumbled Sally with great difficulty.

"There's still a chance!" cried Ned. "I know I'm probably overreacting, but I won't feel better until I check on her, alright?"

"The chances of it hitting our family twice are so small…" But Sally was sleepily getting herself out of bed as well.

"This won't take long," Ned promised. "I can do it myself—"

"No, I'm coming with you. You've got _me _paranoid now."

The two of them made their way to the girls' room as quickly as their tired bodies would allow them, Sally getting to Claire's bed first. She quickly pressed a hand against Claire's forehead and drew in her breath in worry. "Ned, she's burning up," she whispered urgently.

Ned gasped when he saw Claire—stretched out almost comatose on her bed, pale and drenched in sweat. "Claire, Claire sweetie, wake up," he whispered to her, gently shaking her in an attempt to wake her. Even her shoulders were burning with fever now, so much that it almost hurt Ned to touch her. Her breathing was agonizingly slow and labored.

Ned looked at Sally. "We have to get her to the hospital," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, although dread was filling his entire body.

Sally, who Ned could never remember being panicked, was staring at her husband and daughter with wide, frightened eyes. "Yes, we have to get her to a hospital," she repeated, numb with shock. "But wait, we can't leave the rest of the kids here alone…"

"Go wake up Zaneeta and tell her where we're going," said Ned, scoping up Claire into his arms.

Sally nodded, fumbling her way down the ladder on the wall to Zaneeta's bed, which was on the floor level. "Zaneeta!" she whispered, shaking her oldest daughter awake.

Zaneeta groaned in protest. "Come on, Mom, just five more minutes…" she mumbled, still mostly asleep.

"Zaneeta, you need to wake up now," Sally hissed.

Zaneeta's eyes finally pried open, realizing that something wasn't right. "What? What is it, Mom? What time is it?"

"It's four AM—Claire's fever is worse and your father and I are taking her to the hospital."

"Oh?" Zaneeta sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know," admitted Sally, "but until then, you're in charge. And… and be careful how you tell your siblings… I don't want them to get worried."

"Should we be worried?" asked Zaneeta.

Sally sighed helplessly. "I don't know."

Zaneeta gulped.

"If we're not home in a few hours, we'll call you and let you know what's happening," said Sally. "And if we haven't called you, you'd better call the hospital and ask to talk to us, alright?"

Zaneeta nodded. "Got it. You two better hurry."

Sally needed no further invitation. She quickly made her way to the door of the girls' bedroom, where Ned was holding Claire and waiting for her. "You told her?" he whispered, somehow being heard over Claire's sudden weak coughing.

"Yes, I left her in charge until we get back," Sally whispered back. "Come on, we'd better go."

Zaneeta felt conflicting emotions start to settle poorly in her stomach as her parents left the house in a hurry. On the one hand, she was obviously worried about her sister, but on the other hand she felt a strange sort of pride. Her parents had left _her _in charge. Not JZRFV, but just the single _her._

_They really do trust me, _she thought to herself.

Sighing, she rolled out of bed, knowing that she couldn't fall back asleep if she tried. She would probably wake up her oldest siblings soon and let them know, privately, what was happening, but until then, she might as well make herself useful and tidy up the house—

And then, right by the door to the girls' room, she froze, staring at the small trickle of blood on the floor that Claire had just coughed up.

…………

The kitchen at breakfast that morning was unusually tense and quiet, everyone knowing that something was wrong, but almost afraid to talk about it with themselves. The pancakes that Rhiannon and Alison had made were sitting at the table, and the children all seated as well, but they were all discreetly and worriedly eyeing the two empty chairs at the front where their parents normally sat… and the one empty chair for the kids as well.

"You guys can go ahead and start eating," Zaneeta said, sitting up at the front, right next to her father's usual seat. "Normally we can't get you guys to _wait, _for goodness sake!"

"Where's Mommy and Daddy?" whimpered Rachel.

"And where's Claire?" Zoe demanded.

"Claire's fever wasn't getting any better, so Mom and Dad took her to the doctor to see what they needed to do," said Zaneeta. "Hopefully they'll be back pretty soon, but I figured you guys wouldn't want to wait for breakfast, so I thought we'd just eat it now. No sense in going hungry!" She picked up her fork and took a big bite of her pancakes, clearly giving the wordless order to her siblings to follow suit.

Soon the rest of the children were eating as well, but the room was still stiflingly silent, save for the clanking of silverware as they slowly ate their breakfast. Zaneeta tried to keep herself from shivering—ninety-six kids all in one room and being this quiet was more than just unnatural—it was _unsettling._

Jojo, Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia were somewhat evenly spaced out around the table, as if to mingle with their younger sisters, but their sisters weren't asking them any questions—which was fortunate, Faye thought to herself as she forced herself to take a sip of milk. She wasn't very good at lying, and was sure that her sister What's-her-name to her left and What's-her-face to the right would be able to see right through it. Zaneeta had woken her four birth siblings at the ridiculous hour of five AM and told them everything she knew, and Faye, ever pessimistic, couldn't shake the feeling that none of them would ever see Claire alive again.

The gag reflex suddenly reared its ugly head, and Faye abruptly started choking on her milk.

"What's wrong, Faye?" What's-her-name—was it Sara?—asked.

"Just—it just went down the wrong pipe," Faye choked out, trying desperately to keep herself from hurling.

The phone suddenly rang like an alarm, shattering the silence like a runaway baseball. About thirty of the girls dropped their silverware in surprise.

"Telephone!" a chorus of voices rang out automatically.

Zaneeta quickly stood up and grabbed the phone. "Hello?" she said quickly. "Oh, Mom, hi…"

The entire room was quiet, no one even pretending to eat anymore.

"So what's the… oh."

The "oh" was a little bit short, about half a pitch lower than Zaneeta's normal talking voice, and Faye felt the urge to vomit surge up again, knowing what it meant. She shot a look to Rhiannon, who had the same look of realization on her face.

"Um, listen, Mom," Zaneeta said, her voice back to normal, "we're eating breakfast right now… no, it's no problem, we can come as soon as we're done eating, alright? Alright… yes, I will… alright, see you soon. Love you too. Bye."

She hung up the phone and turned to her siblings, who were all staring at her in anticipation. "Well," said Zaneeta briskly, "that was Mom…"

"Duh," muttered Faye before she could stop herself.

"_Anyway," _continued Zaneeta, shooting a glare at Faye, "she called to tell us that…" She sighed sadly. "She called to tell us that Claire just died about ten minutes ago."

The silence was back, about to swallow the room.

"I know this is… really terrible," said Zaneeta slowly, "but we all need to be strong for our parents' sake. I told Mom we'd go to see them at the hospital as soon as we're all done with breakfast. She's… she's really upset, and she needs us there." Which was a huge understatement—her mother's voice had been choppy with disbelief and grief, and she had told her that their father couldn't be moved from Claire's side, wildly insisting that she'd only fallen asleep. "Dad needs us there too. We need to be strong for them. So," she finished, motioning towards the table, "let's finish eating, and then we can go."

Nobody moved.

"I said, let's finish eating!" said Zaneeta, her voice becoming shrill with stress for a fraction of a second.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Isabelle muttered.

"Me either," whimpered Daisy.

"Me either," a chorus of sad voices murmured in agreement.

"Alright… me neither, to be honest," Zaneeta admitted. She picked up her plate of unfinished pancakes, her hands shaking a bit. "Let's put these in the refrigerator. There's no sense in wasting food. We can save what we didn't eat for later."

Her siblings all mimicked her, standing up and filing up to put the food in the refrigerator. Zaneeta continued to stand near the fridge, giving reassuring smiles to her siblings. When Rhiannon put her plate in, Zaneeta gave her a beckoning look, mouthing "I need your help". Rhiannon quickly nodded and stood next to her. Zaneeta whispered in her ear, "I need you to help me keep everyone together when we go to the hospital…"

"Of course, no problem," whispered Rhiannon, her voice raspy.

When Virginia got to the fridge, Zaneeta didn't have to pull her aside at all, for she instantly enveloped her in a hug. "Oh, Zaneeta," she said, sniffling back tears.

"Be strong, Virginia, we need to be strong," said Zaneeta, holding her own tears back. She could cry later—right now, her parents and siblings needed her to be the rock of support. "You need to help me keep everyone together when we go—"

"Of course, of course," murmured Virginia.

There were around twenty-five girls between Virginia and Jojo, and some of them were beginning to cry, the reality of the situation beginning to take hold. Jojo's expression was somewhat dazed as he put his food in the fridge.

"Jojo—" Zaneeta began.

"You need my help," Jojo interrupted. "You don't have to ask. I'll do whatever you want me to."

"Thanks," she murmured.

"Are you alright?" Jojo asked Zaneeta softly.

"It's not good for you to take all of this on your shoulders like this," Virginia said.

"Someone has to," said Zaneeta, trying her best to sound brave.

The last of the five oldest siblings, Faye, looked, if possible, even more dazed than Jojo when she got there. "Faye, can you help us keep everyone together when we go to the hospital?" Zaneeta asked.

Faye nodded dumbly. "Yeah… yeah, sure…"

"Are you alright?" Virginia asked with concern.

"Yeah… well, darn it, no, I'm not," Faye said helplessly, her body sagging. "My sister just _died, _do you think I'm alright? Our sister just _died! _I hardly even knew her, but I feel like total crap… I had this feeling as soon as you told me this morning what was happening, Zaneeta, that she was going to… I hate it when I'm right…"

Virginia and Rhiannon both hugged her tightly, and Faye surprisingly didn't pull away, simply taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. "Sorry, Zaneeta," she said abashedly after a few moments. "I can't lose myself like that…"

"Later you can," murmured Zaneeta. "But not now. I need you to be strong for me."

…………

The walk to the hospital had seemed agonizingly long, even though it was only about half a mile away from their house. Granted, the procession of ninety-six children had been slowed by young toddlers wanting to wander off, and the older kids who more completely understood what had happened getting teary-eyed and needing to be consoled by a sister… but even so, time seemed to have come to a dead halt.

Zaneeta and Rhiannon led the way, while Jojo, Faye, and Virginia brought up the rear. Jojo was trailing a little behind the rest, holding his one-year-old sister, Heart. Being a year old, of course, Heart didn't realize what was going on, and was giggling as she amused herself by tugging on Jojo's short black hair. Jojo sighed as he held her closer to him, wishing for a moment that he could be her age right now and be blissfully ignorant.

One of his sisters in front of him suddenly stopped walking, and Jojo had passed by her a few feet before he turned around and gave her a questioning look. "Come on," he said awkwardly, not knowing her name, let alone how to comfort her.

She glared at Jojo defiantly. "You don't understand, Jojo," she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "She was my _birth sibling."_

"She wasn't my birth sibling," said Jojo, "but she was my sister, and I feel sad too. But we have to keep walking."

"I… I _can't!" _wailed the girl. Jojo winced.

"Come on, Zoe," said Virginia gently, who had made her way back to where Jojo and Zoe were. She somehow managed to take Zoe by the hand, which was quite a feat, considering that she was holding Heddie and also leading Danielle along. "You can't stand there forever. We're all sad too, but we need to face our problems, not hide from them."

"I don't want her to be dead," Zoe whimpered, sniffling away tears. "She can't be! She just had a cold! You can't die from a cold!"

"Grandpa did," Jojo reminded her bluntly.

"Bad things happen sometimes," said Virginia, her voice breaking from her own tears. "And all we can do about them is be strong…"

"I thought nothing in Who-ville ever went wrong!" Zoe cried.

"If that were true," murmured Jojo, "we wouldn't know the meaning of the word 'wrong'."

Zoe whimpered in reluctant understanding. "And do I know it now," she said sadly, but taking a step forward, then another, then another. Soon she, Virginia, Danielle, and Heddie were ahead of Jojo and Heart, for Jojo was now the one who found it difficult to walk.

…………

Sally's eyes were numbed and reddened from crying, so much that she hardly even saw when her ninety-six remaining children had filed their way into the room. Zaneeta and Rhiannon, leading the way, immediately gave her the tightest hug they could manage, each holding a sister or two in their arms. And suddenly, she was enveloped with hugs from ten or fifteen other daughters, following their older sisters' lead.

"I'm so sorry, Mom," Zaneeta murmured softly.

"Thank goodness you guys are here," said Sally, finding herself breaking out in tears again.

"Don't worry, we're here for you," said Zaneeta. "It'll be okay…"

"Your father needs you more than I do right now," murmured Sally.

"But Mom… you're a total mess," said Rhiannon.

"Your father's worse," said Sally, wiping her eyes. "You two and your birth siblings… you'd better go in there…" She pointed to a closed door, not able to look at it for more than two seconds before choking out another sob.

"Nicole, you take care of Mom, alright?" Zaneeta said to her nearest oldest sister.

Nicole nodded. "We can handle it without you. Dad needs you."

Zaneeta also nodded and motioned for Rhiannon to follow her. "Jojo! Faye! Virginia!" she shouted. "Come up here!"

A few moments later, they had made their way through the crowd of their siblings.

"We need to go talk to Dad," said Zaneeta, passing Eve off to her mother. Her birth siblings quickly found someone to take their own babies, and then the five of them cautiously approached the door, Zaneeta leading the way. She stopped just outside the door.

"Open it," Rhiannon whispered after a short pause.

Zaneeta gulped. "Yeah… I will…" She raised a shaking hand to the handle and, taking a deep breath, opened the door a crack. She and her birth siblings all craned their heads to look inside.

Ned was cradling Claire's body close to him, his face twisted into a look of searing emotional pain… clearly, he had finally accepted the fact that Claire was not going to be waking up. Constricted tears slowly trickled down his face as he rocked Claire's body back and forth, silently save for his heavy, low sobbing.

Suddenly, another sob mingled with Ned's, and he turned his head to the door in surprise. Of the five children who were witnessing their father's grief, the first one that had let out a sob of his own was… Jojo.

"Oh, kids," Ned moaned helplessly, his tears suddenly flowing out of his eyes with greater intensity.

And then, before he knew it, all five of them were suddenly at his side, hugging him comfortingly despite their own weeping. Even Jojo and Faye—both of whom hadn't willingly hugged their dad or anyone since they were probably five years old—had their arms around him and were crying freely.

Only Zaneeta wasn't crying, but her eyes were squinted shut as if she was having to try very hard to keep her tears in. "It's okay, Dad," she murmured softly, as if she was the parent and her father was the child. "It's okay. We're here. It's going to be okay."

"It's not okay." Ned's tears were dampening Zaneeta's shoulder. "I wasn't there for her when she needed me. It's all my fault…"

"Don't say that," said Zaneeta quickly.

"No one could have guessed this would happen to her," said Virginia.

"You did everything you could," said Rhiannon.

"No, I failed her," moaned Ned. "I failed her and now she's dead…"

"You did _not _fail her," said Zaneeta emphatically. "No one could have done more for her than you did. You checked up on her at four in the morning because you were worried. That's dedication, Dad. That's not failing."

Ned shook his head. "I'm…" He buried his face in his hands. "I'm a terrible father!"

"No you're not!" all five kids said at once.

"You're a great dad!" cried Faye.

"How could you think otherwise?" asked Virginia.

"You did everything you could," Rhiannon repeated ardently.

"No one could have been more dedicated than you!" Zaneeta said.

"Dad," said Jojo, with a slow, steady emphasis, "you're not _one _of the greats… you're the _greatest. _And if Claire had even half a brain, she knew it."

Ned looked at his children in numb disbelief.

"He's right," said Zaneeta softly, nodding her head. "Sometimes I don't realize… how lucky I am to have you as a dad."

"Me too," the other four murmured in assent.

Ned continued to stare at them in disbelief for a few moments… before setting down Claire's body and pulling them all towards him in a tight, almost crushing embrace. "What would I do without you guys," he said weakly, surprised that he still had enough liquid left in his body to start crying again. The kids returned the hug, taking in the strangely calming silence.

And Zaneeta, in a position where she was sure no one could see her, finally let herself cry.


	14. XIII

Claire had died on a Sunday morning. The beginning of the week. Life didn't stop for the McDodd-O'Malley household. Monday, the kids had school to attend. Tuesday. Wednesday would have been a school day, but the funeral was held that day. Thursday. Friday, the last day of school until next fall, thank the lord.

Monday, the kids—in all grades, from kindergarten to seventh grade—had encountered total sympathy and condolences from everyone at school. Monday, a sobbing Bailey had blubbered for forgiveness, and Becca, Pam, and Zoe had, much to their surprise, freely given it. Monday, Jojo had hardly taken two steps into school when Courtney had nearly crushed him with a hug, murmuring how sorry she was to hear about his sister, and Jojo was surprised to find how quickly he had grown to… tolerate her.

And Monday, despite everything else, Jojo had asked Courtney if she knew anything about Zaneeta and Ian.

But it was not until Friday, the last day of school, that Ian approached Zaneeta, right before school was about to start, almost yanking her to the side.

"Hey, 'Neeta," he said brusquely.

"What?" snapped Zaneeta, regarding him with the normal disdain that anyone else did, that disdain that was befitting of the bad kid.

"You little sneak," he said with a laugh. "My sister told me that your brother told her that you like me."

"Come again?" asked Zaneeta quizzically.

Ian groaned. "I ain't repeating it. That was a mouthful."

The bell rang, and Zaneeta tried to break away from Ian. "Come on, we need to go to class—"

"So? It's the last day of school—what are they gonna do if we're a few minutes late?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "Now come on, tell me the truth. Do you like me, or was Courtney fibbing? Or was Jojo fibbing?"

"Maybe—maybe _you're _fibbing," Zaneeta spat out, somewhat contemptuously.

"Stop avoiding the question—I'm not going to let you go until you tell me."

"Well… maybe I do like you. A little bit." Zaneeta flipped her hair back in a somewhat haughty manner, trying desperately to hide her embarrassment and awkwardness. "So? What's it to you?"

Ian snorted, looking more amused than anything else. "Wow, who'd have thought? The mayor's oldest daughter with the no-good troublemaker. Sounds like a movie or something."

"You're making it sound like we're dating," said Zaneeta, surprising herself by how well she was able to keep herself from squealing, stammering, blushing, and all-around acting like a lovesick moron.

"Not yet, we're not," said Ian with a wink.

Zaneeta put a hand on her hip and gave him what she hoped was a reproachful, disapproving look.

Ian just laughed at that. "You're really different, Zaneeta."

"Different? Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"It's a… different thing. You're not like anyone else I know, but I might think that just because I don't know you very well. I'd like to find out if my first impression of you is right for myself." He winked at her again. "So, what do you say?"

"You're… you're different, too," said Zaneeta, feeling her stomach start to do flip-flops of excitement. "And I'm not sure if it's in a good or bad way, but I want to find out too." She held out her hand for him to shake it. "Deal?"

Ian surprised her by bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it, and he grinned when he saw that he finally got her to blush. "It's a deal, babe."

He let go of her hand, turned around, and walked into the classroom… but turned his head to look at her again, pleased to see that she was staring at her hand, and then at him, with a quickly growing smile of amazement.

And that was one thing he knew for sure about her—he liked her smile.

…………

Friday was also the first time that Ned had gone back to the office since the week before… and two minutes into it, sitting at his desk and staring blankly into space, he began to wonder if a week was too soon. Everything still hurt, and he couldn't make himself care even a tiny bit about anything… in fact, the only thing he could find himself thinking was that he wished he had brought some liquor to the office with him to help him become _totally _detached from everything else.

As tempting as that was sounding… he did have a city to attend to. Sighing, almost with defeat, he hit a button on his answering machine.

"Good day, Mr. Mayor!" the automated voice chirped in a far too friendly voice. "You have sixty-eight new messages!"

Ned groaned.

"First message!"

The first ten or fifteen were just the usual business calls, dealings with city government and the like, and Ned automatically found himself scribbling down notes on who he needed to call back and who needed what done—too bad he didn't have any paper to write it on. "Oops," he muttered, looking at his desk, now covered with scribbled names and phone numbers.

But now, the messages were suddenly taking on a different tone… tones of condolences. Ned stared at his machine in shock as message after message poured in, some from people he didn't even know, only wanting to offer their sympathy upon the death of his daughter. He felt himself shiver—he had learned after the whole Horton incident that he had the town's support, but he had never been so touched by it… until now.

"Fifty-fifth message!"

"Hello, Mr. Mayor, are you in—well, obviously not, I suppose…"

Ned's ears perked up. That voice he _did _know. It was Dr. Larue.

"I was just calling to offer my most sincere condolences, I can only imagine how tough it must be for you right now… and I was also wondering if you could maybe answer a few questions I have about her. As you may remember, I have done some studies in the respiratory system, and obviously Yorgishmeyer disease is so rare—fortunately, mind you—that it's such a rare opportunity to study it—I completely understand if you don't want to talk about it, but I was thinking for the sake of research it would be helpful to maybe understand a bit more of what it is and what causes it, in the interest of maybe preventing any further deaths from the disease. But again, it's completely your choice. Again, my deepest condolences, hope you're well. Bye."

Ned made a quick note on his desk—_Call Dr. Larue._

Once he was finished listening to the rest of his messages, he pulled out the phone book, having decided that she would be the first Who he would call back, and looked up the number to Who U. His call had to be redirected about six times before he finally reached her. "Hello?" she snapped as soon as she picked up the phone, sounding a mite irritated. "And make it quick, I have a class to teach in five minutes—"

"Oh, I'll call back later," Ned quickly said.

"_Mr. Mayor!" _Dr. Larue shrieked in surprise. "Oh, my apologies, I had no idea—my deepest condolences for your loss, Mr. Mayor, I cried for _hours _when I learned, it must be terrible for you, I can't even imagine—"

"What about your research?" Ned interrupted. He was really in no mood to hear her pity—he had been wallowing in his own for these past few days; the last thing he needed was to add someone else's to the mix.

"Oh, yes! My research! I was thinking, if we could get to the bottom of this, we might be able to better understand the disease and perhaps even prevent this from happening in the future—oh, fiddlesticks, my class! I'm going to have to set up an appointment with you to talk about this further—that is, if you're okay with talking about it—"

"I'm definitely okay with it—like you said, maybe we can prevent something like this from happening again. Are you busy tomorrow, around, say…" Ned looked around for his organizer, couldn't find it, and decided to heck with it. "Noon-ish?"

"That sounds splendid. I'll be here in my office—I'll leave the door open. I'll see you tomorrow—and again, my sympathies, Mr. Mayor…"

Ned sighed, hearing from the tone of her voice that her sympathy was truly as sincere as she had said it was. He really had no choice but to accept her pity. "Thank you, Dr. Larue. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Ned hung up the phone and looked back at his desk, or more specifically, the long list of people he needed to call back, and groaned in exasperation. No, not now. He was not in the mood. He had never been as much not in the mood as he was at that very moment.

He swirled around in his chair to look outside at his balcony and the world beyond, the clear summer day taunting him with its cheer.

And then, suddenly, he heard it. That familiar rumbling from the drainpipe.

Leaping out of his chair with both surprise and excitement, he grabbed the horn off of his speakerphone and ran to the drainpipe, sticking it in the break in the pipe and listening…

…………

_The same time, up in the atmosphere (AKA, the Jungle of Nool)_

Horton the elephant bit the corner of his mouth in both determination and caution, slowly but surely inching his way up the side of the tree that grew on the side of Mount Nool. About a month ago he had made this same journey, clover (and, more importantly, the speck on the clover that housed Who-ville and all its inhabitants) in trunk, but that time he hadn't seemed to notice the dizzying heights from which to fall and the tiny passages for which the rather large elephant to cross.

"Don't worry, Horton!" Tommy called from below him. "If you fall, I'll catch you!"

"I appreciate the offer, Tommy," Horton hollered down to him, "but—and excuse me for saying so—but I can't say I feel all that confident in your ability to actually do so!"

"That branch totally can't support your weight," said Jessica, with a total lack of concern in her voice, sounding as if she was remarking on a picture of someone attempting the feat rather than the actual thing.

"If he falls, I'm not catching him," said Angela, shaking her head. "I'd get crushed."

"I fell from a mountain before," Katie stated matter-of-factly. "I died."

The rest of her companions stared at her.

"Horton's not going to fall," said Rudy after a long pause. "He got up there once before, he can do it again."

"Thanks, Rudy!" Horton shouted down at the kids. "That's the first thing any of you have said that _hasn't _made me feel like I'm about to plummet to a very GRUESOME and NASTY death!" Balancing on a sturdy tree branch, he carefully scooted his way towards the tiny little cave, in which grew a small flower that was Who-ville's new home. "I think I got it!"

"Hooray!" cried the kids, except for Katie, who was rolled over on her back with her tongue sticking out, looking like a possum playing dead.

"…so are you coming down now?" Tommy asked.

"Of course not!" said Horton. "I didn't come up here just to _look _at the speck! Hopefully he's not busy," he murmured to himself, leaning in as close as he could to the speck without falling over. It had been a month, and during all that time, Horton had kept on meaning to trek up the mountain and talk to the mayor again, if only to make sure that everything was okay for them, but he had been surprisingly busy those past few weeks… and besides, the thought of making that dangerous climb again wasn't a pleasant one.

And hopefully Horton hadn't just braved that climb for nothing.

"Hello?" he said to the speck, as loudly and clearly as possible. "Can anyone hear me? Mayor? Can you hear me?"

There was no answer.

Horton felt his heart sink, but wasn't about to give up. "Well, _someone _had better hear me," he said, rolling his eyes in an impatient manner. "Because I didn't just risk my life and every bone in my body to climb up all this way and balance on this branch just to talk to _myself! _And I am going to stay up here and keep talking until _somebody _answers me!"

"Hey, Horton!" Tommy called out from the ground. "I'm answering you!"

"Let me rephrase that—until somebody _on this speck _answers me! I want to talk to a Who! And I know you're there, somewhere—"

"Horton, that had better be you."

Horton's face lit up when he heard the small, familiar voice from the speck. "Mayor! It's you!"

He heard the mayor laugh with happiness, and Horton couldn't help but laugh too, his spirits lifted. Horton was sure if they could actually see each other, and if Horton wasn't about a million times larger than his Who friend, they would probably be hugging like long-parted friends right now—because, in many ways, that's exactly what they were.

"It's been awhile since I've heard from you," the mayor said, his voice trembling a little, Horton noticed. "I was beginning to wonder if I hadn't imagined the whole thing."

"Well, I've actually been meaning to talk to you for awhile," Horton explained quickly, "but that safe place that I found for you, up on this mountain—it's a steep climb, and I'm precariously balanced for my life right now and having to shout because I'm not as close to your speck as I'd like to be—so, you know, it was just a matter of working up my courage to actually get here. But now that I _am _here, I'm going to talk to you as long as I can before I plummet to the ground below! Are you safe now? You haven't had any earthquakes or anything here?"

"Are _you _safe?" the mayor countered. "I can't say I feel very comfortable knowing that you're risking your life to talk to me—"

"Hey, it's no problem! I'm a pro at risking my life now, anyway," laughed Horton. "So answer my question already. You haven't had any problems there since I put you here on this flower?"

"Well—" The mayor's voice caught, and Horton's smile faded. "It's been fine here," the mayor quickly continued. "We haven't had any earthquake problems. Everything's back to the way it was before."

"Not everything," said Horton with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing—it's nothing you can do anything about," sighed the mayor. "Or even anything _I _can do anything about…"

"I want to know, anyway," said Horton. "That is, if it's something you're okay with telling me."

The mayor sighed helplessly, and Horton felt himself flinch with worry. "It's just that… it's just that… my daughter Claire died on Sunday—"

"Oh my _gosh!" _Horton nearly fell off the branch—and as it was, he could hear it crack slightly as he struggled to maintain his balance. "How can you say that's _nothing?! _Oh, Mayor, I'm _so _sorry…"

"It's alright," sighed the mayor. A slight pause, and he made a sort of sad, half-laugh. "Actually, no, it's not alright, but I'm making it through the days, and that's all that matters…"

"How did she die? It wasn't anything related to your whole incident with me, was it?"

"Oh, no, not at all… she caught a cold, and colds develop into Yorgishmeyer disease once in every eight million, four hundred sixty-eight thousand, seven hundred and two times… and I guess Claire just beat the odds."

"That's terrible," moaned Horton, feeling his chest grow heavy with grief for his friend. "That's… that's the worst thing I've heard in my whole life. Nobody should have to deal with losing a child—but you least of all! You're the _last _person who should have to go through that! I'm so, so sorry—and I'm sorry for blabbing on like this," Horton suddenly said, realizing that he might be being insensitive. "You probably don't want to hear anyone talk about it—"

"No, on the contrary," the mayor interrupted, "I haven't been talking about it this whole week, but now that I'm actually talking about it with you, I'm feeling a little better. It… it helps, somehow." His voice sounded brave, and Horton managed to smile, wondering if he was trying to smile too.

"Well then, tell me about her. What was she like?"

"She was nine years old… she was the sweetest thing, Horton, she never wanted to cause anyone any trouble… she kept apologizing to us when she was sick for taking up so much of our time… such a sweetheart…" The mayor's voice broke for real this time, and Horton could hear him crying softly.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Horton quickly said. "We shouldn't talk about—"

"No, I need to talk about it," the mayor insisted, his voice quavering its way back to normal. "She—she wanted me to tell you hi for her. And she wanted me to tell you hi from Milford too."

"Milford?"

"Milford is—was—her stuffed elephant."

Horton grinned. "She had a stuffed elephant? She certainly had good taste."

"Up until we met you, we always thought elephants were imaginary creatures," said the mayor, laughing a bit. "Anyway, do you have any children, Horton?"

"Yes—well, no, not exactly—well, yeah, I guess so—"

"It was just a simple yes or no question!"

"It's kind of a long story," said Horton, carefully readjusting his balance on the branch, "but yes, I do have one son named Norton."

"Why is it a long story?"

"Do you have time to hear it?"

"It's either that or return some calls, which I am putting off for as long as I can—so tell me, and make it as long as you possibly can."

"Well, a few years ago, this bird I know named Mayzie asked me to sit on her egg for awhile while she took a few days of vacation," said Horton. "I thought at the time that it was a completely ridiculous request, because elephants aren't exactly known for their sitting-in-trees abilities—although the practice I got from back then is certainly helping me out now!" he added with satisfaction, looking at how expertly he was poised on the branch—not a trait the average elephant possessed. "Anyway, I promised her that I'd sit on her egg until she got back. I figured she'd be gone for a day or two—"

"She just up and left, didn't she?" the mayor interrupted. "She just abandoned her egg?"

"Not entirely," Horton quickly clarified. "I sat and sat and sat on that thing, all the while being made out as a complete freak show, because I was sitting in this tree, you know—I looked like an obese condor or something. That tree was actually uprooted, Mayor, and they took us away to some zoo to be pointed and laughed at! But as humiliating as it was, and as sore as my butt was by that time, I still stayed there, because I made a promise… and an elephant's faithful, one hundred percent!"

"I've heard that one before," laughed the mayor.

"Of course you have," said Horton matter-of-factly. "It's my motto, the code by which I conduct my life, my sacred teachings and philosophy that will someday become a world-wide religion and I will be the Buddha of all knowledge. But anyway, back to my story. The egg finally started to hatch, and at just that moment, Mayzie appeared and told me to move my hiney and get lost, and not in so many words, either. But when the egg hatched, it wasn't a bird at all! It was an elephant with wings for ears!"

"You're pulling my leg!"

"I'm serious! Cross my heart and hope to—whoa—die." The branch had started to sag again.

"You're taking advantage of the fact that I can't see any of this!"

"I'm serious, really! I meant what I said and I said what I meant! I hatched an elephant bird! I couldn't tell you how it happened, because I certainly wasn't the one who got Mayzie knocked up—pardon my phraseology—but you can certainly tell by looking at the kid who it was that did all the work in hatching him."

"So that's your son?" the mayor asked. "Norton?"

"Yep," smiled Horton, his mind drifting off to parental worries of his flighty—literally—son. "He's pretty much all grown up now… I haven't seen him for awhile, to be honest with you. He's definitely an elephant _bird. _He can't stay in one place for too long before wanting to fly off somewhere—his mother had to teach him how to fly, I don't know the first thing about it. Actually, to tell you the truth… I almost didn't want him to learn how to fly," he admitted abashedly. "Being land-locked, you know, I wasn't too crazy about the idea of him up in the air, I didn't want him to be flying off by himself… but he's a bird, it's best for him… and he has to grow up sometime, you know?"

"I know the feeling," sighed the mayor.

"You do, do you?" grinned Horton. "How old is Jojo, anyway?"

"He's thirteen, and so are my four oldest girls. Jojo and Rhiannon have started dating, and Zaneeta's got a boy she's interested in too… I can't believe that they're old enough for that."

"It should be a relief," Horton mused, "when your kid is old enough to not need your constant attention… but it really isn't. Even when they don't need you anymore… you still need them."

"How true." The mayor's voice was very quiet that time, and Horton barely heard him.

"Horton!" Tommy shrieked up at the elephant. "Katie just fell down a mole tunnel saying something about going to join her insect brothers in an orgy of delight—and whatever that is, it doesn't sound good!"

"Actually, it sounds wonderful!" Horton shouted down at Tommy.

"You'd better come get her anyway!"

Horton sighed. "Alright. Listen, Mayor, I've got to go and pull one of my protégés out from her underground brothel—and besides, I don't think this branch is going to support me much longer."

"But—" the mayor began, then stopped himself for a moment before deciding to continue. "When will we talk again?"

"Same time tomorrow? Acting on the assumption that I find a safer way up here?"

"I'll be here," said the mayor.

"Alright! Whoa, this thing's about to give. Bye, Mayor! Talk to you tomorrow!"

"Bye!"

Horton quickly scooted his way back to the trunk of the tree, and just in time, for a final crack in the branch sent it crashing to the ground.

Clutching the tree for dear life, Horton gulped. "That could have been very painful." He looked to another tree on the other side of Who-ville's cave, with a similar-looking branch on it. "Hopefully _that _one's as sturdy as it looks."

…………

Despite his concern for Horton's safety, Ned was disappointed when their conversation had been cut short. For one thing, it had been wonderful to hear from him again, reaffirming that Horton hadn't just been a long, tedious hallucination… but more than that, it was just nice to talk to a friend, to be able to have a sympathetic ear to listen to his troubles. It had definitely been helpful, but it had also been far too short.

"Tomorrow," Ned murmured to himself reassuringly. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 10:32 AM. That gave him a good hour and a half to talk with Horton before his appointment with Dr. Larue. Tomorrow was shaping up to be a busy day… but that left today still a big, empty blank. Well, true, he had a lot that needed to get done… but that meant actually sitting down and _starting _it.

His phone beeped, signaling an incoming intercom message from Ms. Yelp. "You have a visitor, sir," she said.

"Who is it?" Ned asked.

"The chairman."

Ned quickly bit his tongue to keep himself from groaning. "Alright, send him in," he said instead, managing to keep his tone civil.

The door opened and the chairman brushed in, holding a very large stack of documents. Ned winced. "What are those?"

The chairman snorted impatiently. "What do you think? Your backlog, of course." Ever since the Horton incident, the chairman had avoided Ned as much as possible… but he was still just as rude as he had been before when he had to converse with him. The only difference between then and now was that now, the chairman wasn't going out of his way to hassle Ned. But he was certainly still hassling him.

"While you've been moping around at home," the chairman continued unsympathetically, "the city council's still been at work. These are all the ordinances that need your signature—or veto, if you're in a foul mood."

Ned felt his face flush with anger. "Don't… don't use that tone with me," he growled firmly.

The chairman gave Ned a look of unbridled loathing. "Oh, what, do you want me to dish you up a nice, huge serving of pity platter? My condolences for your loss and all, but life goes on. You can't just sit around all day and cry and expect the world to cry with you. Pull yourself together, for Pete's sake."

"I suppose it would be too much to ask you to think about what I've gone through!" Ned shouted, losing his composure. "Seeing as you never think about anything but how you can better yourself! For your information, I'm coping the best I can—I'm sorry it doesn't fit in with your grand scheme!"

The chairman grabbed Ned by the collar and jerked him close to him. "And for _your _information, I have never put anything above the best interests of this community. Without a strong, level-headed leader, this town would fall apart—and _you're _our leader, as much as I wish otherwise. The town needs you. It always does. It can't stop and mop up your tears for you when you have a bad day. And," he growled in a low, intense voice, "don't think for a second that you're the only one here who's lost someone he loved."

Ned stared at him in surprise. He didn't want to admit it, but the truth was that he knew next to nothing about the chairman. He was fairly certain he wasn't married—but had he been once before? Had he lost a sweetheart, a wife? A _child? _His stomach clenched with resistance—he'd never thought of the chairman as an actual person… more like a malevolent force in his life, who only existed to aggravate him. But now he was forced to accept that the chairman—VonFrood, he had a name after all—was just as Who as _he_ was, and his body didn't want to admit it. Things were so much easier when he could just classify him as the cardboard cut-out bad guy and not have to treat him as an individual.

VonFrood let go of Ned, dropping the stack of ordinances on his desk unceremoniously. "I'd suggest not putting those off for long," he said curtly. "They'll just keep piling up."

"I'll… get to them," Ned mumbled, his chest feeling hollow.

VonFrood rolled his eyes impatiently. "And you call _me _self-centered. You've been mayor for a year now and you still think the whole world revolves around you and your unstable feelings." He made his way towards the door, clearly not wanting to spend a second longer with Ned than he had to. "Maybe if you thought about it for once, you'd realize that there are _many _others who are _far _worse off than you." He stepped out of the room, but turned to make one last comment before leaving. "It's not as if you don't have an abundance of other children, anyway." The door shut.

Ned's anger spilled over with that one remark. True, others had said that, but with a clear wish to console with the words, reminding him that he still had a large family for support and love. But VonFrood's remark had rubbed Ned as meaning that the loss of one child was no big deal, for one was easily replaced with another, as if they were all alike, like replacing a toothbrush. And Ned welcomed the anger, not wanting to feel sorry for him anymore. His anger at Claire's death had been dormant until now, but now he finally had an excuse to let it erupt out of him like a volcano.

He grabbed the stapler from his desk and flung it at the closed door in complete rage. _"GO TO HELL!" _he screamed.

The stapler bounced off the door and right into Ned's face again.

He screamed again, although this time it was a wordless scream of anger, pain, frustration, and anguish, and desperately tried to yank the stapler out from his face, although this only burrowed it in deeper.

Ms. Yelp opened the door, staple-remover in hand, and quickly yanked the stapler out of Ned's face and removed the four staples in his forehead. "You gonna be alright, sir?" she asked with concern. "Maybe you ought to just go home for today."

"I can't," muttered Ned, hot, bitter tears starting to run down his face. He wrinkled his face in an effort to stop them. "I have some very important documents to sign…"

"Forgive me for saying so, sir, but you're in no condition to be working today."

"I've moped around for nearly a week, Ms. Yelp! I've been neglecting my duties!" As much as Ned hated to admit it, VonFrood was right. He had a town to run and couldn't afford to just ignore it again. "My work's been piling up this week and it won't go away until I work on it. I'll be fine."

"You sure?" Ms. Yelp raised an eyebrow in a concerned, maternal way.

"Positive," said Ned in a voice that didn't sound so. "And Ms. Yelp?"

"Yes?"

Ned opened his mouth to thank her, but felt too selfish at that moment to do so.

"No more visitors today. I don't want to see anyone."

"With the mood you're in today, they won't wanna see you," Ms. Yelp remarked, but with a knowing, sympathetic nod.


	15. XIV

(Quick AN:

Thanks to everyone who's read this, and extra thanks to those who've left reviews! Your support means a lot to me. :)

If you're interested, check out my DeviantArt page (the link is in my profile). I currently have pictures of Zaneeta, Claire, Courtney, and Zoe posted, and I'll probably have Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia up soon as well. (OMG gyz I want Virginia's hair!!11!1eleven)

Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy the last chapter!)

…………

It was the last class of the last day of school… which is, as any student knows, the longest forty-five minutes of the year. For Jojo, whose last class was literature, it was especially boring, for he had finished with his final exam in a mere ten minutes and was left with more than half an hour to sit at his desk, bored out of his mind, not able to talk to anyone until the last test was turned in… and Jojo had apparently been one of the unusually fast ones.

He sighed inwardly in mild irritation, looking at Zaneeta, who sat two rows away from him. She was scratching her head in slight confusion at a question. Zaneeta was never very good in lit classes, although she certainly worked hard for her grades… unlike Jojo, who didn't work very hard and yet got straight A's—which were pretty pointless for him, really. School seemed pointless as well. What need did he have for an education if he was just going to be mayor someday? It wasn't like there was any job competition.

Conscious of Jojo watching her, Zaneeta looked up and smiled at him, the glow of her new dating status still as strong as it had been that morning. She mouthed "thank you" to him, still smiling with an air of hardly daring to believe her luck.

Jojo gave her a smile in return and mouthed "you're welcome". When his sisters had congregated in his room on Saturday and giggled annoyingly over boys, Jojo had had no intention of finding a date for his sister—not that he didn't want her to be happy, but because he thought the whole dating aspect was stupid. But on Monday, when being comforted by a weepy Courtney, Jojo's thoughts had drifted to his oldest sister, realizing that he hadn't once seen her cry over Claire's death… although, being her birth sibling, he could tell that it had hit her hard. But Zaneeta always took it upon herself to be the calm, cool, and collected one when calamity hit, and Jojo felt she deserved a reward for it.

_I wonder if she realizes just how much help she is? _he wondered idly to himself. Zaneeta was never asked to be the almost third parent of the family, she just took on that role because she liked helping out and knew she was good at it. She was really the true oldest child, not Jojo, with the responsibility that she—

Jojo's thoughts screeched to a halt with a sudden idea. He held his pencil to his mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully. He chewed on it throughout the entire class, in fact, surprisingly hardly even noticing when the final bell rang, signaling the start of summer vacation.

"Heck yes!" Zaneeta said to him, as the two siblings filed their way out of the classroom amidst their cheering, ecstatic classmates. "We're officially eighth graders now! That is, assuming I passed that test. How am I supposed to remember the details of that story we read? Like it has any bearing in anything that's important! How did you manage to finish it so fast?"

Jojo shrugged. "I don't know," he said simply.

They were now outside in blessed freedom. Jojo turned to the right, while Zaneeta turned to the left. "Uh, Jojo, home is this way," she said.

"I need to go talk to Dad," said Jojo. "You go home without me."

"Talk to Dad? About what?"

Jojo sighed. Why did she have to be so persistent? "Nothing you need to hear. I need a man-to-man talk with him." Which sounded stupid as soon as he said it, but he figured that was the only way to keep Zaneeta from digging for more information.

"Ooooohhh," said Zaneeta, feigning awe. "You men and your talks. Alright, I'll tell Mom that you'll be home soon. See you later!"

"See you," said Jojo, giving a small wave and making his way towards City Hall, getting away from the crowded school as fast as his legs could carry him. Luckily, he found a cyclist who was willing to give the town's savior a lift, Jojo fitting rather comfortably in the basket on the bike. Despite the ease of traveling, Jojo sighed grumpily, anxiously looking forward to the day when he would finally hit his growth spurt. Riding in a bicycle basket was totally embarrassing, to put it gently.

The cyclist dropped him off at City Hall and Jojo cautiously made his way inside. It was not very busy that day; only a few Whos were moving in and out of the hallways. Jojo walked up to Ms. Yelp's desk, but she didn't even see him. He cleared his throat, trying to sound professional.

Ms. Yelp looked away from her computer in surprise and looked down, finally spotting Jojo standing timidly at her feet. "Well, Mr. McDodd, hello there!" she said cheerfully. "What can I do for you, hon?"

"I'd, uh, like to speak with my father. Please," Jojo quickly added. "Is he busy?"

Ms. Yelp's smile faded. "He's been working on his backlog all day… but to be honest with you, hon, I think he shouldn't have even come in today. I'm worried about him. He's still an emotional wreck, and it doesn't seem healthy for him to work like this so soon after…"

Jojo's face fell. Oh, duh, of course. Today was totally not the day to tell him what he needed to tell him. Maybe in a month or so. He'd hid his true feelings from his dad for thirteen years now; one more month was nothing.

"He did say no visitors," Ms Yelp continued, "but I have a feeling he'll make an exception for you. In fact, even if he doesn't, I'll make you go in there anyway. It'll be good for him to talk to you." She pushed the intercom button. "Mr. Mayor, you have a visitor," she said in her most businesslike voice.

"I told you, Ms. Yelp, I don't want to see anyone," Ned responded, his voice sounding tired and aggravated.

"Not even your own son?"

"Jojo?" Ned's tone immediately brightened. "Send him in!"

Ms. Yelp pushed another button and the doors slowly swung open, and she gave Jojo a smile. Jojo returned it, but his smile was small, suddenly feeling ill at ease. Nevertheless, he cautiously stepped into his father's office.

Ned pushed aside a large stack of papers so he could better see his son and gave him a big smile. "Hey, Jojo!" he said. "What brings you here?"

Jojo hesitated, weighing the situation and trying to decide if it was a good idea to tell him what needed to be said, or wait until later and make up some other reason as to why he had come visiting. "How are you?" he finally asked, avoiding the question altogether.

"You know, I'm really feeling pretty good right now," said Ned. He motioned towards the pile of papers. "You see these? These were a backlog of ordinances that I needed to review, and I'm nearly finished with them! And I'm never happier than when I've just completed a task!" He smiled, probably a bit too broadly.

Jojo hesitated again before deciding to forget about being polite. "Alright, now tell me the truth."

Ned's face fell. "Was that… too forced?"

"Just a little."

Ned sighed. "The truth is… the truth is, the work does really help, honest. It helps take my mind off…" His voice faltered and he turned his head away, his chest becoming heavy again. No, no, not here. Cry in front of anyone else, but not your son. You have to be a man for him. Of all the people who should _not _see you cry, your son is at the absolute top of the list.

Jojo looked at his dad sadly, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come…"

"No, I _want _to talk to you… I _need _to…" Ned sighed in resignation, letting his weak tears out with heavy breaths. "Oh, Jojo…"

Jojo carefully made his way to his father's side and comfortingly put one arm around his waist, than the other, in a rather awkward hug but a hug all the same. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said. "I… I've cried a lot, too. I don't know why, I hardly knew her… but I think about her and I start…" Jojo had already cried once in front of his father and had no intention of doing so again, but he did feel his throat constrict. He swallowed heavily and his eyes stayed dry.

"Of course," said Ned gently, looking Jojo in the eyes. "She was your sister. Of course you'd be sad."

"But… but I hardly knew her. I hardly know any of my sisters," said Jojo. "The only ones I really know are Zaneeta, Rhiannon, Faye, and Virginia."

"Well, of course you'd know them better than the rest, because they're your birth siblings. But you're closer to your other sisters than you realize. You're the oldest, you're sort of their protector…"

"But that's what I'm trying to tell you… I really _don't _feel that way." Ned looked at Jojo questioningly and Jojo gulped, guilt and shame filling his body. No, no, today was definitely _not _the day to dump his problems on his dad, not when his dad had enough problems of his own! He'd just suffer through them alone like he always did.

He pulled away from his dad. "I should go."

"What do you want to tell me? You came here to tell me something."

Dang, he was as intuitive as Zaneeta. "Nothing. Nothing. Now's not a good time. I should go."

"Jojo, if you _ever _need to tell me _anything, _you can! Any time is a good time!"

"It can wait, really."

"Come on, Jojo!" Ned was smiling, much to Jojo's surprise. "For years now you've hardly said two words to me—what makes you think that now, when you have something to tell me, that I don't want to hear it? I'm dying to know!" He jumped up and grabbed a chair from the side of the room and pulled it right next to his own chair. "Take a seat."

Jojo looked at the chair warily.

"Please." Ned motioned to the chair, his voice softer. "Don't ever think that I don't want to hear what you have to say."

Jojo finally approached the chair, hoisting himself up in it while Ned sat down in his own chair. "You're not going to like it," Jojo muttered.

"Oh no." Ned's eyes grew wide with sudden worry. "You're not gay, are you?"

"What?" Jojo blinked, totally taken aback. "No, Dad, no, I'm not. Just because I don't like girls doesn't mean that I like guys either."

"Oh, good!" Ned let out a sigh of relief. "Not that I'd be mad at you if you were, mind you," he quickly added, "and if you were I'd want you to tell me and know that I'd be okay with it and that I'd want to know, because I want you to feel that you can tell me anything that—"

"Then would you let me?" Jojo interrupted.

"Oh." Ned looked apologetic. "Sorry. What do you need to tell me?"

Jojo took a deep breath, searching for the best way to explain his situation. Unfortunately, words didn't come quickly to him, and he sat in silence for more than what was required for a normal dramatic pause. Ned waited patiently, but Jojo still felt bad.

"I'm not good with words," Jojo finally said. "I never have been. And I don't like pretending that I am, either. I don't like talking with people."

Ned nodded, and Jojo took another breath, giving space for his father to respond if he wanted to. No response came, so Jojo went on, deciding to just spit it out, because he simply couldn't say things in an eloquent manner, no matter how long he tried to. "I don't like dealing with people at all. I'm happier when I'm by myself and don't have to worry about gaining people's approval. When I do have to worry about that… I worry a lot, because I know I'm not good with words and I say things I don't mean. I feel uncomfortable having to talk to people, or dealing with people at all."

Ned nodded again to show that he was listening. Jojo paused, wishing that he could find a more tactful way to say his next sentence… but maybe, by just blurting it out, he'd prove his point.

"Dad, I don't want to be mayor."

He flinched as he said this, waiting for the outburst of anguish from his father, but none came. In fact, Ned hardly looked affected. Noting his son's surprise at his lack of reaction, Ned said, "Jojo, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't already figured that out for myself."

"But I never said anything."

"Not with words… but your expressions told me everything. The thought of it overwhelms you, and trust me, I understand—it overwhelmed me at first too! But it gets easier, trust me, and—"

"Dad!" Jojo interrupted. "I don't want to be mayor. I would make a really lousy mayor. I have no people skills. You have people skills and you care about the town, so you make a great mayor. But I'm not like that."

"You'll learn," Ned insisted. "Once you actually—"

"Dad, I don't know how to explain this any clearer, but I don't want to be mayor—it's not who I am, and I know I'd be terrible at it. I wouldn't be as good as you…" He took a deep breath before dropping the second bomb. "Or as Zaneeta."

"Zaneeta?"

"You know, your daughter…" Jojo gave a small smile.

"I know who Zaneeta is," said Ned with a smirk. "But why did you just mention her?"

"She's good at handling crises. She likes to talk to people. She likes to help people. She's actually interested in government. And she'd make a way better mayor than I would," Jojo finished, feeling almost relieved to have gotten it off his chest. Even if his dad totally shot down his suggestion, at least Jojo wasn't carrying around his secret anymore.

Ned took a deep breath, looking away from Jojo. Jojo felt a small surge of hope. He was actually considering it. "But Jojo," he finally said, "Zaneeta's not the oldest, you are."

"Yeah, by like, one second."

"Three," Ned corrected gently.

Jojo snorted sarcastically. "Oh, my bad. I guess that makes all the difference then, doesn't it?"

Ned chuckled a bit at that, and inspired, Jojo continued. "Come on, Dad, I'm thinking about what's best for Who-ville here. I would make a lousy mayor—and even if you don't agree with me, you have to agree that Zaneeta would make a better mayor than I would. And she'd actually like the job!"

"She would…" Ned snapped back to reality. "But it's always been the oldest child—"

"Is there a law that says that?"

"Well… not that I know of…"

"So who says you can't break the tradition?"

Ned had nothing to say to that. Jojo piped up again. "Even if there is a law, you're the mayor, you can change it! Come on, Dad," he said, a little quieter. "For the sake of tradition you're going to make me take a job I don't like while my sister would like it way more and would be better at it, just because I'm three seconds older than she is? That's total _crap."_

The room was silent for a few moments. Jojo looked down at his feet, out of things to say, and feeling small and ashamed again. Crap. He shouldn't have told him this now. He was right; once he was mayor he'd get used to it and learn as he went. Zaneeta was a hard worker; she'd succeed in another profession. All he had done was dumped another needless worry on his father. Crap, crap, crap.

"You're right," Ned said quietly. Jojo looked up in surprise, and Ned looked back at him, starting to smile. "You're absolutely right, Jojo. That _is _crap. A person as important as the mayor should be chosen by traits, not by birth order. I'll talk to Zaneeta tonight and see what she thinks."

Jojo felt himself smile warmly. "You'll do that? Really?"

"Of course. And Jojo… thanks for talking to me about this." Ned leaned over and hugged him. "I needed to hear it."

_And I needed to say it, _Jojo thought to himself, to his surprise finding himself freely returning the hug. "Just don't tell Zaneeta it was my idea," he said quickly, pulling away. "I don't want her to think that I'm dumping this on her—you know, like it's something I don't want to do and I'm making her—"

"I won't tell her," Ned promised, "although I think she'd understand your actual motivations, trust me."

"Weaseling out of responsibility, you mean," sighed Jojo.

"No," said Ned, shaking his head. "You offered a solution to a problem that benefits everyone involved. There's no shame in that, Jojo. None at all."

Jojo said nothing to that, but his smile of gratitude wordlessly let Ned know how thankful he was… as Ned's smile let Jojo know the exact same thing.

…………

Supper that night had been busy and very, very noisy, the excited chattering of the kids brought about by the end of the school year almost drowning out Ned's very _thoughts. _He had only just barely managed to catch Zaneeta and tell her that he needed to talk to her alone, she being as anxious to leave the noisy room as anyone else was. Of course, since the meal was done, everyone was starting to disperse anyway, so with an apologetic shrug, Ned led Zaneeta to the only room where they could have any privacy—the bathroom.

And not much privacy at that. Natalie walked out of the bathroom, smiling proudly. "I plugged the toilet, Daddy!" she boasted.

"That's nice, sweetie," said Ned, although his facial expression revealed that he thought otherwise. Zaneeta smirked. "Daddy needs the bathroom now, okay?"

"What about 'Neeta?"

"Uh… Daddy needs to show Zaneeta how to clean the toilet," Ned quickly said.

"Thanks for messying it up for me!" Zaneeta said to Natalie with a smile. "You've been a big help!"

"Yaaaaay!" Natalie grinned as she skipped away.

"Nicely done," said Ned in admiration.

"Thanks. Now what's up? Why do you need to talk to me in the bathroom?"

"Yeah, about that—I'm sorry we have to talk in here, but I wanted a place where you could think without much noise, and in this house, the bathroom's about the only place…" Ned gave a slightly abashed smile as his apology and Zaneeta chuckled in understanding. "Anyway, I have a proposition for you, something that you need to think about…"

"Alright, lay it on me," said Zaneeta.

Ned paused, searching, like Jojo had that afternoon, for the best way to approach the subject. "Your mother and I expect a lot of responsibility from you," he finally said. "And I've never had any doubts of your ability to accept it, but… you don't mind, do you?"

"I know it probably sounds weird," said Zaneeta, "but I actually like it. This whole house is kind of a zoo and it makes me feel really fulfilled to help run it smoothly. I'm thinking I'm really cut out for a high-stress career, because I actually enjoy challenges. They keep me on my feet, you know? I'm thinking maybe something like a police officer, a teacher maybe, although that might bore me—"

"How about mayor?" Ned interrupted, seizing his chance.

Zaneeta barked out a laugh of confusion at that. "Mayor? That's Jojo's job."

"Yes, that's the way the tradition goes, but… it's obvious to me that Jojo doesn't want to be mayor, and you're his birth sibling, you must know that too."

"Well, yes," said Zaneeta softly. "So what are you…"

"Zaneeta, you have all the qualities of a great mayor—a _really_ great mayor. And I don't want to deny it to you just because you have an older sibling…"

"Jojo put the idea in your head, didn't he?" said Zaneeta, with a smile of realization.

"Uh—yes, but don't tell him I told you. He didn't want you to know that it was his idea," said Ned, a little flustered. "But trust me, sweetie, it was his idea, but the more I think about it, the more I agree with it. You'd make an amazing mayor, I know it—but I want the choice to be yours. So that's my proposition—would you like to be mayor?"

Zaneeta looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. "Would I… would I like to be mayor?"

"If you need some time to think about it, by all means," said Ned quickly. "Whatever you decide, though, know that you have my full support, and you always will…"

"Dad, I…" Zaneeta's face broke into a grin of joy. "Yes, yes, I would. I would like to be mayor—oh, Dad, are you serious?" She clasped her hands and let out a little squeal. "I would _love _to be mayor, oh my gosh, I would _love _it!"

Ned felt himself sigh with relief and happiness. "The first thing I'll do tomorrow when I get to my office is officially announce you as my successor. How does that sound?"

"It sounds… oh my gosh!" Zaneeta had to wipe away a tear of joy from her eyes before continuing. "It sounds _marvelous! _Oh, Dad, thank you, thank you, _thank you!" _She embraced him in a huge hug, Ned returning it just as strongly. "Thank you _so _much! I love you!"

"I love you too… and I'm _very _proud of you, sweetie," said Ned softly. "I know you'll be fantastic."

"Well… I've got a tough act to follow," said Zaneeta, still smiling. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, I know I've said it a billion times but I can't say it enough… oh my gosh, I want to go tell all my siblings!"

"Go ahead," laughed Ned. "It's not like this is going to be our huge secret or anything!"

Zaneeta, firmly situated on cloud nine, seemed to almost float out of the bathroom, her huge smile completely infectious—Ned was smiling back and doing so so broadly that it almost hurt his face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she was still saying before finally running up the stairs to her bedroom, about to burst with her happy news.

Ned leaned against the wall of the bathroom, smiling freely with the knowledge of the great things that were to come from Who-ville's next mayor.

…………

Later that night, ninety-five excited girls were tucked into bed. _Much _later that night, actually. There was no school tomorrow to warrant sending the girls to bed early… but by the time Ned had finished tucking them all in, he felt as if he was going to pass out with exhaustion.

He quickly ran through a very short to-do list for that night as he exited the girls' room—say goodnight to Jojo, make sure all the lights were turned off, take a shower, go to bed. He had a busy day ahead of him tomorrow, a day that he was actually looking forward to—speaking to Horton and Dr. Larue were both far more pleasant than signing ordinances, that was for sure.

But then, he suddenly froze in his tracks, seeing Sally with her back against the hallway wall, her face in her hand, her body shaking a bit with light sobbing. Sensing Ned watching her, she looked up in surprise and slight embarrassment, her eyes reddened. "Oh, Ned… sorry…"

Ned's heart sank with grief, suddenly remembering Claire… and realizing, for the first time, that he had spent so much time wallowing in his own grief that he hadn't even thought of how Sally was handling it. In truth, Sally was the strongest person he had ever known, so maybe it was just that he hadn't even thought to be worried about her… but she clearly needed comforting, and Ned hadn't given her any.

"No, I'm sorry," he whispered gently, wrapping his arms around her and rocking her back and forth. Sally let herself cry again into his shoulder. Ned almost began crying himself, feeling his heart breaking at seeing her sorrow, wanting more than anything to wipe it away permanently… but not knowing how. All he knew was that _she _was the one who needed consoling right now, not _him. _As much as he wanted to break out in tears too, he couldn't.

"I've been trying so hard to be strong," she murmured, "but it's so hard…"

"I'm sorry," Ned murmured again.

"It's not your fault."

"Yes… yes it is. Everything is." Sally looked at him in confusion. Ned sighed sadly. "I'm the reason you're here in the first place. You… you could have married Stuart Shepherd, and maybe you would have only had ten kids and wouldn't have had the stress of being first lady and all your kids would be alive right now and you'd have your own life that wasn't tied up in taking care of scores of children…" Not for the first time, Ned was overwhelmed with the sickening realization that Sally deserved so much, and yet he gave her so little.

"There's only one problem with that," said Sally softly.

"What's that?"

"I didn't want to marry Stuart Shepherd. I wanted to marry you."

"You wouldn't have wanted to marry me if you had known that this would happen," sighed Ned.

Sally laid her head against his shoulder. "Ned, even if—lord forbid—you and the rest of the kids all died tomorrow… I still would never, ever regret marrying you."

Ned's hands slowly stroked her back, too speechless to do anything else.

"I'll be alright," Sally murmured softly. "I have you and the kids. It still hurts to think of Claire, but… even so, I'm so glad she was in my life, even for that short amount of time."

Ned slowly lifted Sally's head from his shoulder and kissed her… gently, passionately, fully. His lips lingered on hers as he felt her almost melt into him, with a grateful surrender. How she could be so content with the little he had to offer her, Ned didn't know, but he knew that he'd give her everything he had to give to make her happy.

"If you need anything," he whispered, their lips parting, "anything at all… I'll do anything for you."

"I… I know," she whispered back gratefully.

He kissed her again, softly and tenderly, before finally pulling away. "I'll be turning in pretty soon," he said, his voice still low. "Is there anything you need? Anything at all?"

"No… I'm fine," said Sally slowly.

"Alright. I'll be there soon." He softly knocked on Jojo's bedroom door and, after a short pause, entered.

"I'm… more than fine," murmured Sally, one hand touching her heart.

Who'd have thought you could be married for thirteen years and still fall more and more in love with your husband every day?

…………

Jojo hadn't answered the knock on his door because, much to Ned's surprise, he was talking on the phone. Ned had to stand in the doorway and stare in shock for a few moments, and Jojo, noticing his father, gave a small, almost embarrassed smile, signifying both his apologies for acting so out of character and his consent at his father's presence. Of course, Jojo, being Jojo, wasn't doing much talking at all, simply giving an "Uh-huh" every ten seconds or so to show whoever he was speaking to that he was still there.

Finally, Jojo actually used some real words. "Listen, Courtney, I'd probably better go. …Yeah, I'm tired… alright, whatever… I don't care… look, why don't you just call me tomorrow, I really don't know right now? Alright… okay, goodbye… Goodnight…" He made a face of annoyance. "I'm not repeating _that _one. Goodnight, Courtney." He quickly pulled the phone away from himself and hit the power button before she could talk to him anymore.

"She's a nice girl," said Ned with a smile.

Jojo rolled his eyes, looking positively exasperated. "'I love you, Jojo!' And she expected me to say 'I love you too!' What makes her think she loves me?"

"If she says she does… then she probably does," said Ned.

"She's thirteen years old. She doesn't know a thing."

"_You're _thirteen years old, and you know a lot."

"Not about love."

"I fell in love when I was thirteen… and I never fell out," said Ned softly.

Jojo gave him a small smile. "Well, you're one of the rare ones." He handed him the cordless phone. "Could you hang this up for me?"

"Sure thing." Ned cleared his throat and gave Jojo a knowing smile. "I talked to Zaneeta today—"

"You think I don't know that?" said Jojo, snorting good-naturedly. "She won't shut up about how happy she is. And she won't stop thanking me—I told you not to tell her!"

"I didn't! She figured it out for herself!"

"She owes me big. All in one day I've hooked her up with a guy and landed her her dream job."

"A guy? What guy?"

"Ian." Jojo chuckled a bit at Ned's sudden look of worry. "Don't sweat it. I don't think it'll last very long. Zaneeta's going to get bored with him pretty soon. But she's happy now," Jojo shrugged, sitting on the edge of his bed with fatigue, "so that's all that matters."

"But what if he just causes her heartache?" Ned insisted, still looking ill at ease. "What if he just leaves her worse off than she is now?"

Jojo shrugged. "We won't know unless we find out, huh?"

"I wish there was a way of knowing before that," sighed Ned, his eyes downcast. "Sometimes I wish I could know what life holds for me, so I can better prepare for it…"

"Jeez, I don't," muttered Jojo.

Ned looked at him in surprise.

Jojo's eyes brightened with an idea. "Come on. I want to show you something." He jumped off his bed and scurried to his closet, pulling out a large box full of… objects of some sort, unrecognizable.

"What are these?" Ned asked in confusion.

Jojo pulled out one from the top. "I made this a few months ago. It's a battery-powered fan. It'll probably be really helpful this summer. These—" He pulled out what looked to be a small but clunky pair of scissors—"These are scissors I made about a year or so ago. They actually work really well for trimming loose hairs. And here's a lever. Nice to open doors with. And, of course… lots of music boxes. I'm kind of addicted to making those."

"You made… all this?" Ned's knowledge of Jojo's mechanical faculties was still new enough to astonish him when viewing his son's handiwork.

"Yeah," said Jojo with a modest shrug. "But the thing is, when I built this stuff—when I build anything, actually—I never have a finished product in mind. I just build and wait to see what it'll turn in to. Even my symphonophone—my big observatory project that you saw—I didn't really know exactly what I was going to do with that, either. I was just building because I like it." He placed his inventions back in the box and looked at it for a few moments. "I think life's like that too. If I knew what I was going to build before I built it, I don't think the process would be as enjoyable. I would feel as if I was just going through the motions. And if I knew what was going to happen in my life before it happened, I'd feel like… like I wasn't living my life for myself. I'd feel like I was just waiting for things to happen to me, not making them happen for myself. That's no way to go through life. Sure, so bad things might happen unexpectedly, but so do good things. Sometimes good things turn out to be bad later, and vice versa. But that's living. And I don't want to know which is which until I can live through it and figure it out for myself."

Jojo fell silent. It had been a long speech for him and it had seemed to totally wear him out. After a short pause, he pushed the box back into the closet with his foot, yawned, and made his way towards his bed.

Ned stared at him, his jaw practically hanging open, almost overwhelmed with his son's words of wisdom. How many times that day had that boy completely astonished him?

"Jojo?"

Jojo looked at Ned in acknowledgement.

"I know you're going to disagree with me… but you would have made a great mayor."

Jojo smiled softly. "Zaneeta will be a greater one." He got into bed and laid his head on his pillow, his eyes instantly closing in sleepiness. "Goodnight."

Ned moved to the side of Jojo's bed, pulling up the covers and tucking him in, even though he probably hadn't done so since Jojo had been maybe six. Jojo cracked an eye open and gave him a small smile, however, showing that he didn't mind. Ned sighed again, although this time it was content, caring one. "Goodnight, Jojo. I love you, and… and I can't tell you how proud I am of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I do now." Jojo's smile grew a bit wider. "And… and likewise." He closed his eyes and nestled into his pillow.

Ned also smiled, standing fondly by his son's bedside for a few moments before giving his shoulder a small, affectionate squeeze. Jojo's mouth twitched up again.

"Goodnight, Jojo," he whispered again. Then he stood up and made his way to the door, but pausing to smile at him one more time before flipping off the lights.

THE END.


End file.
